


Suck You Bus

by quicksilver_nightsky



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Afterlife, Chapter 15 - End of the Road, Eternal Roadtrip, Fuck Or Die, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Promiscuity, Self-Lubrication, Sexuality, Succubi & Incubi, Transformation, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-08-27 16:03:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 25,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16705516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksilver_nightsky/pseuds/quicksilver_nightsky
Summary: He waved a hand lazily, dismissing the topic. “Anyway, I’ve simply come to give Prince Noctis a gift.”“He doesn’t want anything from you!” Prompto snarled, stepping forward aggressively.“No,” Ardyn agreed, sounding far too amused. “Not from me.” Black lines were spreading up his arm, eyes turning a sickly yellow colour and dripping with black tears. He gave a sharp grin. “Tell the prince there will be no need to thank me.”





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> Some depicted graphic violence in this chapter, but that's all as far as warnings go for the intro.

Prompto Argentum was 20 years old, and like many guys he bragged a lot more about his sexual conquests than reality proved. Dude, he was not a virgin! Noct had taken care of that on his eighteenth birthday when he'd been bitching about dying alone forever because nobody even _looked_ his way when he was with his best friend all the time. So, he had definitely handed over his V card! Or, exchanged it for Noct's, after an awkward semi-painful experience where they'd laughed almost the whole time and still teased each other about their hair trigger. But they were bros! So, other than a couple seshes of lending each other a hand and the gift of one super awesome bro-job (if he did say so himself), they were best buds but nothing else. He'd also had a lady or two — and been on a couple dates with a hottie in the Crownsguard with _ten abs_ and the Vee Muscles that Prompto had really wanted to lick. And yeah, dude, he's bi as fuck and not ashamed of it! Cause there's nothing shameful about being attracted to two genders! 

He hasn't got as much experience as Gladio because — well. Does anyone in all of Eos??? 

Noct is a prince so, while he has to be careful with who he sleeps with, he's also got people throwing themselves at him on the reg. He's only been with guys but doesn't really label himself gay cause when they had that conversation he just kinda shrugged and said _I don't know. There's Luna?_

Iggy is a mystery, mostly. He will politely excuse himself from any conversation about sex or romance — Prompto had guessed asexual once, but Gladio had grunted _he's demi_ and quickly changed the subject. 

Anyway! So Prompto was pretty comfortable with his sexual experience! Sure, he wished he got laid more often, but what allosexual guy didn't? (Look at him, throwing around the terminology he learnt googling _what is a demi?_ after Gladio's comment.) The thing is, he always kinda judged how much Gladio got around? Like, okay, slut shaming is bad and each to their own but like… wouldn't it get lonely? And… what about STIs? He always used condoms — and he'd been the one to give Prompto and Noct the very scary lecture about why they were necessary after Prompto's eighteenth that had, honestly? Put him and Noct off any kind of sex at all for weeks. — But they broke sometimes right? How did he even appreciate sex when he had it so often? He didn't even date the ladies, just sexed them up and left them behind. 

Maybe he spent way too much time thinking about his friends' sex lives. 

***

They'd set up a semi-permanent home base at Lestallum. It was a hub of life that almost matched the beating pulse that was Insomnia — so they all kinda felt more at home there than they did in the worryingly underpopulated places around Outer Lucis. 

They ditched paying 300G every night to stay at the Leville (plus room service costs!) and gotten this sweet ass apartment near the marketplace. It was only a two-bedroom with a couple of beds, but Iggy and Gladio hadn't argued when Noct had said "I'll share with Prompto" and that was kinda that? He didn't mind a little nighttime spooning action between bros, so sharing a bed with Noctopus was no big deal. Some nights Iggy cooked and others he shoved some Gil at them and told them to fend for themselves. 

Prompto didn't recall too often - he had to consciously think about it to remember. Ten years of darkness and the final battle and dying as the first rays of sunlight piercing the shroud of darkness. 

And then he was blinking his eyes open in Cape Caem, like before they'd left for Altissia — but he was wearing his kingsguard uniform, with his better weapons. But he didn't have his awesome goatee — Iggy could see, and Gladio's cute wolf tail was gone. There was something haunted in Noct's eyes that told Prompto he remembered too. 

Prompto made sure to laugh as brightly, tell all the jokes he could. There was no urgency to rush forward, go to Altissia and go beyond. They fucked around, taking hunts and running errands for whoever pinged their map apps. And then the hunts slowed down, or ran out, but not even Iggy or Gladio suggested moving on to Altissia. 

One night, under the stars with the prince, Prompto — a couple sheets to the window — looked up at the sky and asked Noct: "is this how you imagined the afterlife?" 

Noct's bottle dropped out of his hands and smashed on the stone of the haven. "Wait, you…?" 

"Me?" He echoed, rolling his head over to one side to look at him. 

"You're… you…?" 

"Died?" Prompto finished. "Yeah. When the sun was rising after." 

Noct reached forward and touched his cheek. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I _wanted_ you to live a long happy life." 

He rested his head on the hand, trying to get his eyes to focus on the prince's blurry face. "Well. I get eternity to hang around with my best bud on a kickass road trip." He reached up, brushing his thumb across Noct's bare cheek. "Kinda miss the sexy Aragorn look though." 

"Well, can't say the same. Your chin fuzz was embarrassing." 

He smacked at his shoulder. "Dude! You're rude! Tell me I was still hot!" 

"No can do, Prompto." He teased back, grinning. "I can tell you you're hot now?" 

"Not the same dude. Not the same." He rolled his head back up to look at the stars, taking a sip from his bottle before the prince stole it. "I don't think Iggy and Gladio are… back yet," he mumbled. 

"Not yet," Noct agreed. "I kinda hope they don't. Not for a long time." They sprawled in silence for a long time, and then Prompto rolled his head over to look at Noct. "Wanna hook up?" He asked lazily. 

Noct rolled his eyes from one side to the other with an "uhhh" as he thought about it. "Nah. I got whisky dick." 

Prompto snorted and lay back on the sleeping bag. "We haven't been drinking whisky, you nerd. You've got beer dick." 

"That sounds dumb though," Noct replied. "Beer dick sounds dumb." 

"And it's dumb." Prompto agreed. "Go get another bottle. You've drank up all of mine." 

***

Prompto's camera was full. There were all the pictures of Before, and the pictures after - but he only dared keep ones of him and Noctis or the landscape. There was something just _not right_ about the photos of Iggy and Gladio. When he thought about it, he figured it was because it wasn't really _them_. But most of the time he didn't think about it. If he let the knowledge slip away they were just four guys living in Lestallum living up their youth. They sometimes made allusions to the crystal and the throne and the empire and the royal arms and Altissia and the wedding. But never in any sort of urgent, timely way. 

He printed the ones he liked enough to keep but didn't feel like keeping in the SD card. He kept them in an old cookie tin under a loose floorboard under their bed. 

One morning, Noct still asleep in their bed, Gladio chatting up the ladies and Iggy browsing the markets for the best ingredients, Prompto headed down to the outlook for a few warm-up shots. 

But when he reached it, he tensed up in fear. Standing there was a figure he'd thought he'd never have to see again. A head of maroony hair turned and he was greeted with a lazy, sarcastic smile. "Ah, Prompto Argentum. Just the person I came looking to see." 

"Ardyn!" He said. He brought up his hand to summon his handy pistol, but his grip came up empty. 

"Now, now, don't be rude," the daemonic man scolded. "This is a friendly visit." 

"Yeah. Because you're a _real friendly_ guy." 

"No need to be sarcastic, Prompto," he said, still giving this mocking smile Prompto wanted to shoot full of bullets. "I helped the young prince many times throughout your adventures. Taking you through to the Archeon, rescuing you from a fiery death, helping you recover the car, securing safe passage through to Gralea, reuniting your prince with his crystal." 

"And killing his fiancé and taking over his city and kidnapping me and blinding Iggy and, oh yeah, starting the whole invasion in the first place!" Prompto snarled back. 

Ardyn only smiled. "Whence you meet him again, once he has joined you in this place, ask him the particulars. You'll find your dear bespectacled friend maimed himself." He waved a hand lazily, dismissing the topic. "Anyway, I've simply come to give Prince Noctis a gift." 

"He doesn't want anything from you!" Prompto snarled, stepping forward aggressively. 

"No," Ardyn agreed, sounding far too amused. "Not from _me_." 

Before Prompto could answer, there were clawed hands plunging into his gut. Ardyn's hand, piercing through his stomach until his fist was no longer visible. And then Prompto screamed in pain as he felt something cold and sickening spreading down his body from the entry point. Black lines were spreading up his arm, eyes turning a sickly yellow colour and dripping with black tears. He gave a sharp twist. "Tell the prince there will be no need to thank me." 

Pain overwhelmed Prompto for a moment, but in the blink of an eye it vanished. He was standing alone on the outlook, Ardyn was nowhere to be seen. His shirt and the skin beneath is were intact. It was almost as if it had never happened, but Prompto could feel the cold, sticky feeling continued to spread through his guts. 

Something had happened, something Ardyn was using to torment Noct even in his afterlife. How had he even gotten here?! 

He put a hand on his abdomen and rubbed, hating how his guts squirmed and his stomach gurgled. 

Whatever it was, he couldn't tell Noct. His best bud had done his part, saving the world and dying for the price. He wouldn't let Ardyn ruin his peaceful afterlife too. 


	2. Thick, Juicy Meat

He knew something was up real quick. There was a particularly awful bout of stomach flu he did not want to talk about at all. And then when he woke up the morning after he felt completely fine. Great even. 

A glance in the mirror told him he looked good too. He was having an awesome hair day, it was shiny and soft and sat perfectly. His skin was clean and healthy, even his freckles looked cute for once instead of splatters of dots. His eyes were shiny and clear, his lashes looking long and thick around them. When he flexed his muscles at the mirror a few times, Noct threw a pillow at him and told him to stop checking himself out. 

“Dude, I’m starved!” Prompto announced. And it was true, his belly felt hollow like he hadn’t eaten in a week instead of 24 hours. “Let’s go get kebabs!”

“Sleepy,” Noct disagreed, yawning and burying himself in their bed. 

He tutted in disapproval and smacked his friend in the head with a pillow. “Come on, dude. Fresh air! Thick, juicy meat, dripping with oil and sauce.”

Noct just snorted at him and gave him a playful smirk. “If you want juicy meat, we don’t even have to leave the bed!”

“Noct!” he shrieked, laughing as he whacked his friend again. “Now is not the time for bro jobs!” 

But the reaction was faked. Because in the instant Noct had said it, Prompto had wanted to pounce on him and rip his clothes off. Like… violently. Literally tear his clothes off and...ride him until he exploded. It was a very, very vivid thought, and he was embarrassed when he could feel saliva building up in his mouth. 

That really should have been his first clue. 

But instead he swallowed it down and said, “dude I’m drooling just thinking about those kebabs by the outlook. Come ooooon.”

Noct’s response was to pull the sheets over his head. “Just bring me back a few.”

“Dude,” he said emphatically. “If you’re not coming, you don’t get any! Thems the rules!”

“The spicy kind, not the satay!”

Prompto whacked him again and stood up. He swayed a little on his feet but purposefully ignored it. One foot in front of the other, go get the food. 

Man he was starved. He kept raising his nose as he walked through the streets. Delicious smells kept wafting out the windows, and from the crowded areas around the markets and stalls. It all smelt so good and his tongue felt too big for his mouth, drool pooling every few seconds so he had to swallow it or wipe it away. 

Was twenty four hours such a shock to his digestive system? Because it seriously had to chill! He was going to get food. 

He stopped at their favourite kebab place, looking at the display. Huh. Suddenly, standing there, he didn’t feel so hungry any more? Like what was with that?

The lady behind the register gave him a sweet smile. “Hey there Prom! The usual?” She asked. 

“Uh. Yeah.” He counted out his Gil and had it ready by the time she’d prepared a paper cup with four kebabs sticking out of it. 

He gave her a wave, heading back towards the hubbub of the city. Weird. He was hardly hungry any more? For all his drooling, he felt nothing as he looked down at the kebabs. 

He wandered slowly back towards their apartment. But he didn’t have much time to think about his turn of appetite. Soon the smells were washing over him again, and he could feel the hunger. He raised a kebab to his lips and slid it in. His tongue slipped over the flesh, lapping up the oils and swirling to gather up the slick—

He slammed his thoughts to a halt and yanked the kebab out of his mouth. Was he just… blowing his food? He thought very pointedly about biting down with his teeth and dragging off the cooked meat to chew and swallow, but his muscles seemed unwilling to follow through. He dumped the kebab quickly back into cup and felt anxiety bubbling in his chest. 

Okay. Something was up. Maybe he really hadn’t quite recovered from his stomach flu yet? There was a weird squirming feeling in his lower guts. And he was delusional, yeah! And probably horny? He hadn’t gotten off in like… forever. Not since their last visit to Cindy anyway. 

Okay. Okay. He’d just thought about Cindy and nothing. To excited flutter of admiration from his crush, or the shameless twitch in his jeans from the memory of her bared, sweat-slicked skin. Nothing at all. He tried to think about her boobs the first time he’d pulled off her bikini top, but instead his brain was slip-sliding into Gladio’s determined shirtlessness. He’d never known people so allergic to covering up their skin. 

But if he looked like Gladio he’d never wear a shirt either. He had the badass tattoo, which emphasised the broad expanse of his shoulders, and the sculpted perfection of his back muscles. His tight strong abdominals, and the Vee Muscles that led down to the…

Okay nope! He suddenly now had a situation in his pants. One he’d been expecting thinking about a certain grease monkey goddess. 

Maybe he was just having a gay phase? Nothing wrong with that! He’d had a straight phase for a while in Insomnia too. Sexuality was fluid, whatever. 

Something fucking amazing caught his nose. Drool pooling under his tongue, he licked his lips and let his feet follow it. He found himself wandering down a dark, narrow dead end valley - and came to a stop when his eyes adjusted. 

There was a guy, back to the wall, hands in the short hair of a plant worker as she went to _town_ on his dick. Slurping and moaning greedily. 

Prompto swallowed as a desperate urge welled up in him. He wanted to go over there and shove her off, to wrap his thighs around the guy’s hips and just _slide on_. His breathing was ragged and he fought against the compulsion to move. 

The guy noticed his presence and smirked. His eyes roved down Prompto’s body, lingering on the tented front of his jeans. He met Prompto’s eyes, licked his lips enticingly and _winked_.

Prompto turned tail and **ran**. Because if he stayed in that alley he was going to make a very, very bad decision. 

Something was wrong. Something was very very wrong, and he could almost hear Ardyn’s mocking laughter as he raced back to their apartment. 


	3. Boxers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think I need to warn for something please let me know and I’ll add it at the beginning of the chapters. Ta.

When he burst into the apartment, breathing hard, two minutes later, he had Noct practically falling out of his seat on the couch. 

“Shiva’s Bangle, Prom!” Noct said, clutching his chest. “Where's the fire?”

_In my pants_. Face red, he shoved the kebabs at Noct and rushed to the bathroom. He turned the water tap on full blast, scooping a little into his hands and splashing his face. Then he stood, hands pressed to the sides of the sink, and stared at his expression. Even flushed with panic and exercise and the most inappropriate boner in the world, he didn’t look the usual splotchy mess. The blood seemed to glow under his skin, making him look debauched but still thoroughly, thoroughly sexy. 

Something was definitely, definitely wrong. Hands shaking, he turned off the sink and took deep breaths. 

There was a tentative tap on the door. “Prompto?” Noct asked, his voice soft with concern. “Do you want some ginger beer?”

Oh Noct. “No thanks,” he called back, his voice tight and husky. Six, he smelled so good. Now that Prompto’s panic was receding, his senses were climbing back to the front of his brain again. Noct smelled even better than the guy in the alley. 

Ashamed, hating himself, he let one hand wander down to his jeans. “I’m, Uh, probably gonna be in here a while,” he warned. 

“Okay. Text me if you need anything?”

_I need your fucking dick_ , Prompto thought wildly, slipping his hand into his briefs and grasping his slick, stiff dick. He bit down on his lip, trying to suffocate any noises fighting to come out. 

Noct’s footsteps receded from the door - some of the delicious scent going with him. But not fully, he realised - just as Noct turned up the sounds of his game to block out any noises from the bathroom. Thank fuck, but not for the embarrassment Noct thought he was saving him. 

Sniffing, he followed the thick smell to the laundry basket, almost filled to bursting. There were the pyjamas Noct had been wearing this morning - and they smelled so good when he raised them to his nose. But they weren’t the source of the amazing scent. He shoved his hand down into the basket and pulled at a lump. It was a pair of Noct’s boxers - black silk because duh. But they were sticky with white mess and Prompto’s insides clenched with raw need as he realised. It was fresh, still damp to touch, and Noct’s hair had been wet from the shower. 

Prompto realised with a desperate thrust of his hips - Noct had called off coming to get breakfast so he could stay home and jerk off. Into his pants. Had he done it in their bed, or in the bathroom before his shower? 

He stroked himself frantically, and he definitely did not bring the boxers up to his face. Didn’t put his mouth around the stains and sucked until the silk was clean. Didn’t plunge his fingers into himself thinking about Noct jerking it on the edge of the bathtub. 

He really, genuinely didn’t. But the vivid images, the compulsion was so strong it was a close fucking call. 

When he came, his shout of Noct’s name was drowned out by the victory fanfare of Final Fantasy XV. 

He stared down at the mess he made, and that was the final straw to knowing something was very, very wrong. His jizz was like a sticky black tar - and he shuddered as he realised where he had seen it before. Dripping out of Ardyn’s mouth and eyes in his demonic face. 

Panicky, he stripped naked and stuffed his clothes in the laundry basket alongside Noct’s dirty boxers. There was something clear and slick and damp on the back of his briefs and he swallowed thickly. He didn’t want to think about that. Couldn’t. 

He took the laundry basket outside the door, shouted over the sound of the game for Noct to do the washing, and announced he was going to shower. 

He had every intention of washing himself free of all traces of what he’d been doing, what was happening to him. But he caught a whiff of Noct’s scent in the shower. 

In moments he was on his knees, hands desperately jerking his swollen dick, and two fingers plunged his ass. His ass opened up too easily, was already too slippery with clear slick. 

Like a girl’s cunt, but tighter and hotter. (That thought had him nearly losing his boner.)

Or a guy’s ass after a real good sesh with a dildo and plenty of lube. The image of that had him twitching back to life again, fresh slick flowing out over his fingers. 

He came with another frantic cry of Noct’s name, black sticky mess clinging to the white enamel of the bathtub for a moment before the force of the shower spray had it washing away down the drain. 

He was just moments from following the compulsion to add another finger when the water turned icy cold. He shrieked at the sudden shock of temperature and nearly fell out of the tub onto the bathroom floor. 

Well. At least it had killed his mood. 

  


Dried and dressed, he came out of the bedroom to see Noct settling back onto the couch and taking up the controller. 

“Laundry’s on,” he grunted. 

Prompto sat in Gladio’s armchair, keeping a little distance from Noct and himself in case his body went crazy again. “Thanks.”

Noct side-eyed him slightly as his fingers flew over the buttons. “Haven’t recovered from the stomach flu just yet, huh?”

“Something like that,” he mumbled. Was it even a stomach flu? Or was that some kind of… transformation? His transition into some kind of daemony thing who hunted for dick?

“Specs is gonna buy soup stuff,” Noct explained. “Should settle in your stomach easier.”

“Where are the guys anyway?” He asked, wanting the change of topic. 

“Where they always are. Chatting up girls or haggling with stall owners,” Noct explained, rolling his eyes. 

Yeah. NPC Gladio and Ignis were kinda predictable. “Oh. Okay.” He took out his phone, fiddling with it for a bit before sending Iggy a text. _Can you link me to that daemon bestiary you’ve been making?_

An oddly pleased hum snapped his head up, attention locking on Noct. The prince had picked up the last remaining kebab — but Prompto could see it was less sticky, the sauce...already sucked off. “Uh… Noct…” He started, wanting to warn him. 

“Dude, what flavour’s this?” Noct asked, humming again as he bit off a bit of meat and chewed. “The sauce is amazing.”

Something hot and needy curled in his gut. “No idea,” he said, his voice rough and deep. “I just ordered the usual.”

Noct grunted in acknowledgement, and Prompto could only stare as the prince bit, chewed, and swallowed the meat from the skewer that he’d covered in his saliva. 

He stood up, abruptly enough he startled Noct again. “Bathroom!” he declared and rushed over to the safety of the room. 

He came within moments of the door being closed, biting on his tongue until it bled to stop himself from screaming Noct’s name a third time that hour.


	4. First Feed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Dubious consent due to...becoming a succubus? Fuck or die concept anyway.  
> Under negotiated sex.  
> Use of derogative names Prompto doesn’t like or get into.  
> Unsafe sex.  
> Multiple partners.

Nobody asks why he’s running to the bathroom all the fucking time — but Iggy looks Concerned™ and Noct keeps giving him pitying looks. The hunger (or should that be capital-h Hunger?) only gets worse as the day progresses. He sits on his hands, to stop them from reaching out towards Noct, or from sliding into his jeans. 

But it’s not just Noct - even if it’s definitely mostly Noct. Or… Noct priority? Whatever, he hardly notices the others are in the room when Noct is. 

But at some point in the late afternoon, Noct yawned and declared he was going to have a nap. That was his best bud, forever sleepy. Prompto stayed in the living room so he didn’t crawl into bed beside him and fuck him dry. 

But once Noct was out of sight and scent, Prompto’s eyes start to wander. Gladio first, because he’s half-naked on the couch, flicking lazily through a book he’s read before. His muscles are everything Prompto remembered them to be, shallow pools of sweat gathering in the divots of his sculpted curves from the heat of the afternoon. Prompto spent an embarrassingly long time staring and imagining licking his way up from his belt buckle to that stubble, then being held up against the wall with all those glorious muscles. 

When his eyes managed to pull away some his sizeable bulge, Gladio was raising his eyebrows at him. “You sure you shouldn’t be in bed, Prompto? You just zoned out for a full twenty minutes.”

“Nah,” he said, his voice husky. But he does take another trip to the bathroom. 

When he came back out, Ignis is on the other end of the couch to the Shield, sewing some small repairs of Noct’s. A button, a split seam…

His fingers were so delicate, so dexterous. Prompto wanted them in his mouth, wanted them gently preparing him - mercilessly teasing his prostate while he opens him up for his dick. Iggy would probably be as determined and perfectionist in bed as he was without. He might even deliver quick, firm commands in that sexy accent of his. 

Prompto stood up, wavering on his feet. 

“Prompto?” Ignis asked, peering at him over the top of his frames. “Are you quite well?”

He’s not. Not at all. Because Prompto is the kinda dude that respects a guy’s asexuality, and no matter how gorgeous and svelte he thought Iggy was, he’d never fantasised about him before. He was losing control over his own six-damned brain, and how long until his body followed? 

“I need some fresh air,” he declared, grabbing his shoes from the door and stomping out before the other two could ask any questions. 

He wasn’t sure how he found the club. But he suspected it was his nose leading the way. It was **clearly** a gay club. It was called The Keyhole, like how could it get any more obvious?

How, did he ask? By the sight of a dozen men in various states of undress grinding on the dancefloor to something with way too much bass. And the hunky bartenders dressed in nothing more than shiny gold booty shorts. It stunk of sex in the air and he nearly drooled on his own shirt. 

He circled round the edges of the club until he got to the back corridor, slipping into the bathroom. He headed to the sink, splashing water on his face and accidentally getting distracted by the way he looked with little beads of water clinging to his eyelashes. And then movement behind him caught his eyes. 

Coming out from the stall behind him was a guy who looked somehow familiar. And then he got a smirk and the memory hit him. It was the guy getting blown in the back alley. 

“Hey there, Blondie,” the stranger purred. “I was hoping I’d see you here.”

His smell hit Prompto’s nose and he lost it. He shoved the man back into the stall and slammed it closed behind them. The man laughed and went for his belt buckle. “Good. I hate a cocktease. You getting on your knees or you got something else in mind, Blondie?”

He didn’t answer. Well, not with words anyway. He turned around and broke his fly with his eagerness to get his too-tight jeans down. He pressed his hands against the stall wall and arched his ass back in demand. 

The man only laughed. “Knew it. Know a bottom bitch when I see one.”

He wanted to argue. He really did. He was a verse, if he had to know! And using bitch derogatively was not a cool move! But the words never came out. 

The man had pressed one bony finger against his entrance. “Blondie, you pre-prepped for me?” He taunted, smirking. “Fucking slut. You’re lucky I like my bitches wet and sloppy.” The sound of the zipper had him shivering with desperation. He felt so hollow, so empty, so hungry. “Condom?”

He shook his head. He wanted to be full of cum. “Don’t like them,” he mumbled. 

“Neither,” the man grunted. “You better be clean, Blondie. Club’s got a clean bill policy and I ain’t getting kicked out ‘cause your ass is hungry.”

“I’m clean,” he answered needily, feeling the tip of the man’s cock against his slick, open entrance. He was, too. He got tested regularly back in Insomnia, thank you Gladio’s terrifying Safe Sex lectures. 

“Good.” And that was the only warning he got before the man was slamming inside. 

An almost inhuman cry of pleasure escaped his lips, and he couldn’t keep still. He was rippling his muscles, thrusting back and forward and back again in a desperate, desperate chase. The other guy just had to hold still. 

“Fucking howling like a bitch in heat, Blondie,” the man grunted, his voice straining with pleasure. “A slut like you is gonna be popular in this club.”

He wanted the man to shut up. Just shut the fuck up and come and fill Prompto up before he starved to death. He squeezed his eyes shut, scratching his nails down the fading green paint of the stall. 

Noct wouldn’t talk him down like this. Noct was his bro. Cared about his kinks, and wouldn’t dare start out by calling a hook up names. 

The man’s hips began to twitch forward. “Fucking...take...it...all...bitch!” With an aggressive snarl, he slammed Prompto against the wall, plunging impossibly deep and finally _finally_ began to come. 

It was like the best orgasm ever, and a taste of Iggy’s pepper daggerquill rice, and the endorphins of a good run, the morning light on Noct’s sleeping face, a cold drink of water after waking up in the middle of the night — all of it rolled into one and magnified. He fucking lost his mind in it. 

When he was blinking his eyes clear, he realised with a twist of horror that he was _still hungry_. Not starving, not like before. He wasn’t about to die for need of it. But he wanted. He needed. 

He twisted his head around when he heard a tapping on the stall door. It was open — alley jerk must have left it that way when he… dude, when had he left the stall? — and a stranger was smirking at him. “You Blondie?”

“H-huh?” He asked, his brain feeling sticky. 

The new man reached down and cupped his swollen bulge through leather pants. “Friend of mine said I could find you in here.”

Six save him. He was _still hungry_.

  


He didn’t know what time it was when he stumbled out of the club, feeling full and filthy. Four men. It had taken four men before he didn’t want to be fucked any more. Until he was satisfied. 

It was dark — as dark as it got in the city anyway — and the streets were relatively quiet. He took the back way just to be safe, slipping into their apartment. 

Gladio was snoring in the other bedroom, so the guys were probably asleep. He sat in the bathtub and washed himself with too much soap and a lot of cold water - until he didn’t think he smelled like a cum dumpster in a gay bar anymore. 

Then he dressed in his freshly laundered pyjamas and slipped into the bedroom he shared with Noct. 

The prince was awake, his cell in his hands. He lowered it when Prompto came back in, his eyes were soft with concern, but relieved to see him. “Hey. You’re back late.”

“Went to a club,” he mumbled, crawling under the sheets of the bed. He didn’t elaborate. 

“Oh. Well. Have fun?” Noct asked, sticking his cell on charge and shimmying down so he was lying next to him. 

It was the first time all day Prompto could look at his friend without becoming overwhelmed with the need to fuck him. At least his night at the club had actually worked. “It was okay,” he mumbled. 

When Noct’s arms opened, Prompto shifted forward and buried his face into Noct’s shoulder. If his buddy was still awake when he soaked his shirt with tears, he at least did him the favour of not mentioning it. 


	5. Ignis

He managed. He started out in the club every night, getting three or four guys and stumbling home to bed with Noct. He didn’t always cry, but they always snuggled. 

If he’d only had three the night before, he always woke up slick and humping back into Noct’s morning wood. His buddy kept quiet about it - but some mornings he held Prompto fast against him and grinded against him until he came. His hands always reached around to finish Prompto off, but he batted them away. He couldn’t risk anyone seeing his jizz, let alone Noct. 

But they were bros so they never had to talk about it. They had a sweet friendship like that. 

He bought a plug, because he was sick of changing his briefs three times a day. He got a crampy, full feeling every several hours and had to go to the bathroom to pull it out and drain. But that was the closest he got to needing to go to the toilet any more. He didn’t eat — and the few times he did, just to test it, or because he was out with Noct, it stayed heavy and awkward in his stomach until he coughed it up later. 

Sometime in the first couple weeks, someone had taken a permanent marker and wrote ‘ _Blondie’s Sluthole_ ’ on the door of his usual stall. He wanted to cry the first time he saw it, and tried half-heartedly to rub it off. But at least it got the message across quickly about why he was there. 

After a while of four a night, the Hunger started to tone down. He could go with two instead, and then just one. But instead he culled it back to two every other night. So he could have spare time to hang out with Noct again. 

Being well-fed had other benefits. He could suddenly see everything more clearly, like switching from 1080p to 4K HD. It made his photography even more kickass! His smell had been kicked up since the beginning — though his taste died to pretty much nothing. Things hardly hurt at all any more, but when he was Hungry, everything felt so unbearably good. His hearing went further too but didn’t seem to be any more sensitive to loudness. 

He was thoroughly, definitely inhuman. And most of the time it scared the shit out of him. 

He was pretty sure Noct thought he was seeing someone. It was in the way he looked at Prompto when he was heading out to the club, something about the way he clung to him tighter after his shower when he got home. And he made it pretty damn obvious when, after a good Feed, Noct held him close and whispered: “You know you can tell me if you’ve got someone, right Prompto?”

So he managed. Got through it day by Hungry day, struggling to find an explanation and a cure. The closest he’d come to something similar in Iggy’s bestiary was the Melusine they’d hunted in the Vesperpool. But even that didn’t quite fit. It made him terrified. If he resisted, if he starved himself, was that what would become of him? Some sort of snake hybrid doomed to lure in men to completely consume them? He never wanted to find out. 

But he couldn’t let Noct know either. If this was Ardyn’s “ _gift_ ” to the prince, he would make sure he never received it. 

***

Iggy was next. 

Prompto stumbled out of the club, high on the feed of one wandering Kingsglaive. It had been so good, ten times better than being filled up with any other guy. He felt like he was on drugs, not that he had any experience with that. And he was so full - like that one time he’d had _five_ in a night. 

Hands gripped at him as he passed through the darkened doors of the club. “Hey, Blondie, where you going?” Someone laughed. “I paid the bartender, it’s my turn for the night!”

He would think about that little bit of information later. He slipped out of his grip, slinky as a cat. “Don’t feel like it,” he replied with a laugh. 

Hands gripped onto him. Tighter and harder than necessary. “I _said_ ,” the voice continued, “that I’ve already paid. I’m getting what I came for.”

He summoned his gun and fired a warning shot into the sky. The hands immediately let go. “Well I’m not getting paid. I’m going home now.” He headed back down the alleyway, humming to himself. He felt _so so good_. All he wanted to do was go home and snuggle with Noct. 

“Fucking bitch!” A voice was screaming after him. “Who wants sloppy seconds anyway? I want my fucking money back!”

Everything was so nice. The air felt amazing on his skin and in his hair. He was so full and so good. He hummed and swayed his way down the streets, turning as he came out towards the main road. He went to the outlook and threw his arms open, tilting his head back to look up at the sky. 

Dude, there were _so many_ stars. He tried to count them and then lost track and then got distracted just following their swirling, flying beauty. The night sky. Lights in the night sky. He loved the night sky. He giggled to himself at the thought.

Eventually the sky turned a soft, blushing peach, chasing away the stars into orange and yellow. He winced as he looked at the sun, turning his face away. Okay, that was too much. 

Something caught his eyes and he turned, surprised. “Iggy?” Feeling more awake and grounded than he had since he saw the Kingsglaive, he walked over on steady feet. 

That was definitely Ignis, but there was something weird about his body language. 

“Ignis? What are you doing here?” He asked. 

“Prompto.” His voice was soft, affectionate — but thick with some kinda emotion. “I was just watching the sunrise.”

He approached closer. “Dude, you okay?”

Ignis took off his glasses and used the same hand to wipe under his eyes. “Yes, yes. Of course. Only…” He settled the frames back on his face. “I had gotten quite used to the knowledge I would never see it again.”

“Oh shit,” he whispered. The realisation hit him — struck him full force and banished the last traces of the post-feed high. “ _Iggy_ ,” he said, gripping his arm. “It’s actually you! Like _you_ you!”

“Who else would I be?” The advisor asked, sounding amused. 

“Dude!” He threw himself forward and hugged him tight. “ _Dude_. We have to go back right now and tell Noct. You’re here!” His stomach sunk a little. “Oh. Shit. You’re here. What _happened_?” Ignis gave a weak smile. “A heart attack. But perhaps that is a conversation best saved until we are with Noctis?”

Ignis headed towards the Leville, but Prompto lightly tugged his sleeve and pulled him towards their apartment block instead. 

As soon as he opened the door to their bedroom, Noct was on him, looking him over. “Prompto where have you been? You were supposed to be back _hours_ ago!”

“Dude. Later — I found Iggy.”

“I know, I sent him out an hour ago to look for you. Where—”

“No, dude,” he insisted. “I mean I found _Iggy_.”

Ignis stood in the doorway, and his breath caught as he saw Noct. “Majesty…” He breathed. Then in a rushed movement he put a hand to his chest and bowed. 

“ _Specs_!” Noct cried, his voice breaking. He threw himself at his oldest friend, clinging to him and shaking with sobs. 

Prompto just beamed at them a moment and silently excused himself to shower. Clean of the night and dressed in soft pyjamas, he headed out to the kitchen to make them both breakfast. 

Iggy and Noct were sitting on the couch, talking in low voices that were still clearly audible to Prompto. 

“...so this is some sort of afterlife? Your reward from the Astrals.” Iggy confirmed. 

“Guess so,” Noct answered. “It just wouldn’t be right going back to Insomnia, I guess? And I had some of the best times of my life travelling around with you guys. If this is my reward, I’m thankful for it.”

“And you’ve had Prompto with you from the beginning?” Ignis asked, his voice soft. 

“Yeah. Or within a couple hours anyway. It slips away, if you don’t actively think of it. You just remember the road trip.”

He nodded seriously. “And how long has it been for you?” 

“Uh. A few months maybe? Time… time doesn’t exactly change here. Why, how long is…? I mean, I wanted you all to have long, happy lives after I…”

“Don’t trouble yourself, Noct.”

Prompto came in, carrying plates of bacon and eggs for the guys. He sat down on the floor and watched them as they continued to talk. 

“I had a good thirty years, after your ascension. Gladiolus became king, after you, and I served with him. Lucis still has much to rebuild, but we have done all we could.” 

“You were sixty,” Prompto said, looking between them as they ate. 

“Sixty-two,” Ignis corrected. “A fine age, far longer than my parents or grandparents ever got to live.”

“And… did you ever marry?” Noct asked quietly. “Have kids?”

A slight smile flickered over his expression. “No. But a family was never part of my plan, Noct. I had always intended to dedicate myself wholly to the Crown. I served my king well, and that shall be the legacy I pass on.”

“What about Gladio?” Prompto asked, leaning on one hand to look up at them both. “King Gladiolus Amicitia, First of His Line,” he answered, a slight smile crossing his lips. “He was a good king, a strong king. The firm hand Lucis needed to rebuild itself. He loathes his position more than you can imagine.” His fingers rubbed against the edge of his empty plate a moment, before he set it down on the coffee table. “His health is not as good as it has once been. A weak chest.”

“Gladio having a weak anything does not compute,” Prompto joked, gathering up their empty plates to go put in the dishwasher. 

“If the nurses are to be believed,” Ignis said to Noct, his voice a low, comforting murmur, “it will not be long until he rejoins us.”

Prompto stretched and yawned. “I’m gonna go crash. You gotta tell us everything tomorrow, Kay Igs?”

“Night Prom. Join you soon.”

“Goodnight Prompto. I am pleased to see you again.”

“You too, Iggy.”

He was curled up in bed, trying to seek the traces of Noct’s sleepy scent, when Ignis’s voice reached his ears. A low, quiet murmur, meant for Noct’s ears alone. “Is Prompto quite well, Noct? He looks the very picture of health I must admit, but… he seems to me as if he’s acting very peculiar.”

Noct’s sigh was all the response Prompto heard before he dropped off to sleep. 


	6. Gladiolus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompto fantasies about dubious consent things.

True to Iggy’s prediction of ‘soon’, it was two days later when Gladio showed up. He was mid-sentence about a new dish he’d tried at the market earlier when he came full to a stop. He took a deep, deep breath and sighed it out. Then again. And again. “Titan’s Chain, I can’t even remember the last time I could _breathe_ this deeply.” He opened his eyes, looked around the room, and settled his gaze on Iggy. “Afterlife?”

“Quite.”

“Eternal road trip?”

“So it would seem.”

He groaned with relief, “Thank fuck I don’t have to be king any more!” and threw himself into the armchair. “This seat is mine. I’m claiming it now.”

Noct just laughed and threw himself at his Shield. “Give me a hug you dumb musclehead!”

Prompto sat on the floor, watching them hug, then turned a grin on Iggy. Hopefully with the distraction he’d be able to sneak out to the club soon. 

Yesterday had been chill, he almost felt human again. He’d thought maybe he could even push it another day — spend some quality time with Iggy now that he was back in town. 

But he’d woken up, hand shoved down Noct’s pants, to the prince flicking his ear. “I’m guessing that’s some dream you’re having, but _dude_.”

Apologising rapidly, he’d run to the bathroom to take care of himself and change out his plug. _Six,_ what must Noct think of him? Feeling up his bro in their sleep. 

The Hunger was back with a vengeance. Every moment from his waking up was a battle against his urges. The club didn’t even open until five, so he at least had to wait until then. 

Every breath was exquisite agony, Noct’s amazing scent coating his mouth, throat and lungs. He wanted it _in_ him. He wanted _Noct_ in him. 

Then Noct went to nap and he was hanging out with Iggy instead. Iggy smelt different than Noct, less intense but still so Six-damned good. Like the distant island he’d grown up on, the spices of cooking food, a raw _zing_ of elemental magic. 

Thank the Six they hadn’t been left alone for much longer because Prompto was literally on the edge of begging. Climbing up on the kitchen countertop and spreading his legs wide, _begging_ Iggy to feed him his dick. But just as he was stepping into the kitchen, plan in action, when the door to the apartment banged open and NPC Gladio came home. 

He sat with the Shield while they waited for Noct to wake up, and Iggy to finish making his delicate, exquisite pastries. Gladio was sitting on the couch, because Prompto had already claimed his armchair. His thighs were in ultimate manspread the denim of his worn in jeans stretched tight over round balls and the bulge of his soft cock. Prompto was staring, drooling — thank fuck Gladio was too busy reading and chatting to Iggy to notice. 

His shoulders could fit perfectly between Gladio’s spread knees. He could bury his face in that bulging crotch - in the sweaty, musky balls humid from Lestallum’s afternoon weather. He could suck and lick all over until he was hard, then grip onto the broad shoulders he rode the fat dick. Fast and unrelenting until those balls were _drained_ , filling Prompto to bursting. 

He pitched forward onto his hands and knees, ready to crawl over there and bring his fantasy to life. 

Iggy’s voice startled him out of it. “Didn’t mean to spook you, Prompto.” He came into the room, his nummy scent overlayed by the sweet scent of his baked goods. “Could you go wake Noct? They’re his favourite. Ulwaat berries.”

“Yeah. Gimme a sec. Gotta bathroom.” 

He was leaking out around his plug, too slick, too needy, too open and ready for a dick. Any dick. Preferably Noct’s dick. 

But he hurried to replug and fix himself up — maybe if he was quick about waking Noct up, the prince would let him beg for his dick. Or maybe that’s how he could wake him - way better than just shaking him awake, right? Maybe Noct was hard from his nap, not-quite-morning wood. Sometimes he napped naked if the afternoon was too hot (never at night because even best bros didn’t spoon naked). Prompto could just peel back the sheet, straddle his hips and _slide_ on. Take what he needed, until he was full up with jizz. Noct’s jizz. 

Excited for it, he headed out of the bathroom. But Noct was already up, fully dressed, sitting on the couch with Gladio and Iggy, laughing as they waited. 

Prompto settled down on the floor on the other side of the coffee table. Even the armchair was too close. 

Iggy revealed the pastries: expertly crafted, exquisitely delicate things, decorated and shaped with only the most attentive eye. Prompto made himself eat half, but then pretended — okay, _mostly_ pretended — to fold under Noct’s puppy eyes and gave him the rest. 

It was after he’d cleared the plates away (and choked up the mush of pastry into a napkin to hide in the bin), sitting back down with them that Gladio properly arrived. 

He listened to the stories — Amaranth and Lobelia were still young and full of youthful life, but the former would be soon ready to take the crown. 

“Wait,” Prompto interrupted, something finally sinking through his sex-sticky brain. “Are they your kids?”

“No,” Gladio asked. He gave Iggy a look that seemed almost surprised. “...I never married. They’re my nieces, but I named them my heirs.”

Prompto snorted. “You never did settle down!” he laughed. He could imagine older Gladio still dicking his way through life. Holy fuck did he want Gladio to dick him right now. On the coffee table, right in front of Noct. 

“...I wouldn’t say that,” the Shield mumbled. 

The other three talked about… who knows, border lines and politics or something. Prompto watched the old-fashioned clock, knee jumping wildly and guts twisting in need as every second ticked closer and closer. 

At exactly five o’clock he jumped up, startling Ignis and Gladio. Noct only frowned a little. 

“Well, I’m gonna head out for dinner! Catch you all later.” He fingergunned at them and headed towards the door. 

“Prompto, I was going to cook…” Ignis said with a concerned frown. 

“Nah, dude. It’s chill! You baked. Chillax, take a load off, I’m outtie! Laters.” And then he was grabbing his shoes and running from the apartment, his brain locked on to the exact distance between his feet and the stall at the Keyhole. 

Over the sound of his desperate heartbeat, he heard Gladio’s voice at a low, suspicious growl: “Alright, what the fuck is wrong with Prompto?”

“I don’t know,” Noct’s voice teased at the outskirts of his range. “He’s been like this for months. I don’t know what to _do_ …”


	7. Caught

“Fuck yeah!” A high, breathy voice puffed in his ear. “You love this! You love my cock in you!” 

Prompto yawned and shifted a bit so he could check his watch. Was this guy ever going to finish? Ugh. Fifteen minutes. Talk about whisky dick, he could hardly even keep his boner. Prompto just wanted to finish so he could move on. 

It was the second night of Gladio’s coming back to town. Prompto really hadn’t meant to be at the club tonight too. But four guys last night had left him peckish and unsatisfied. He’d really been hoping the Kingsglaive would be here again tonight, but word had it he’d already skipped town. That just sucked, man. 

Noct had only looked at him in a sad sort of concern when he was putting his shoes on tonight. “You’re going out again tonight too?”

“Yeah. Just for a bit.” Prompto was Hungry. He’d needed to go. 

“We were gonna set up the camera and show Specs and Gladio what you’ve taken since Caem.” It was an offer, definitely. Noct didn’t want him to go. He’d gotten used to his only every other night routine. 

“I’ll be back soon. Promise. Just gonna grab a quick bite.” He grinned at his buddy, tried to show him that nothing was wrong. 

“Specs was gonna cook that spicy daggerquill rice you like,” Noct said. It was another push. 

Prompto just nudged him with his elbow and opened the door. “Like an hour, tops.”

It was getting close to an hour now. Number three was taking his fucking time. He shifted position, and that seemed to get the guy going more. If more meant harder and nearly smacking Prompto’s face against the side of the stall. 

Outside in the club, by the bar, he heard a familiar voice. But he was too busy trying to keep his head from bashing the wood to source it. 

“Looking for someone. Word is I can find them here.” It was a deep voice, a pleasant rumble. 

“Can find a lotta people here,” the barman replied, over the slight squeak of his polishing glasses. 

“Someone in particular. Blond, twinkish, kinda twitchy. Freckles?”

“Oh. You mean Blondie.” The barman hacked a laugh. 

Okay rude! He was a _twunk_! Twink-hunk! He had muscles!

“You’ll find him in his stall. He’s already had three guys though, he might head home soon.”

Rumbly voice sounded _gruuuumpy_. “Three guys.”

“Uh-Huh. Look, it’s three hundred Gil to skip the line, but can’t let you go in and see him bud. We’ve got a clean bill policy _eee_!” That last bit turned into a bit of a yell, accompanied by a clatter of glasses. Prompto could imagine Mr Grumble had yanked him across the bar — though who knows by _what_ given how scantily clad they all were. “Okay! Okay! You can go in! No charge!”

Prompto yawned again. “You done yet?” He asked the guy. 

“Almost there!” He moaned. 

Prompto rolled his eyes. Sure he was. 

There was an aggressive smack of the men’s room door against the wall. “Everybody out!” He snarled. That was Mr Grumpy. 

Nobody even protested — how buff was this guy? Maybe he could tolerate being called a twink by someone that hunky. 

There was an aggressive banging on the door of his stall. 

“Just a minute!” Prompto called back, trying not to yawn. 

Another, even more aggressive knock on the door. “Now!”

“Mate, I’m almost finished!” Number Three whined. 

The response to that was a horrible wrench and snapping sound as the whole door was ripped out of its frame. Number Three screeched and swore in horror, pulling out of Prompto fully. 

He gave an irritated sigh and rolled his head to look. Every muscle in him tensed at the sight of Gladio standing there, the stall door held in in one hand. _Oh fuck_.

“Get. Out,” the former Shield growled at Number Three, who barely stopped to yank up his pants before stumbling out. He turned his fierce gaze on Prompto. 

He felt a shiver of fear rack his body, and at the same time he felt slick and cum dribble out of his entrance. 

Gladio’s eyes narrowed to mess. His jaw clenched furiously. “Of all the stupid, dangerous things—” He cut himself off sharply. “Pull your pants up, Prompto. I’m taking you home. Now.”

“But I…”

Gladio gave a furious look at the stall door in his hands, eyes roving over the words. He brought one hand back and thrust his fist forward, the wood splintering in a hole around his hand. “You can walk or I can drag you out by your hair.”

Prompto swallowed and pulled his jeans up. He shuffled after Gladio, the crowd of the club parting before the Shield’s bulk. He stopped at the door, one hand tight on Prompto’s bicep. Loudly, enough to be heard by everyone in the club, he said: “If I find out you’ve let him back in here, every person in attendance will personally answer to me.”

There was nothing else to say after that. Gladio let the door close and stormed off towards the apartment. He didn’t speak, and when Prompto opened his mouth to try, he was cut down with a stony look. 

Ignis and Noct were waiting inside. They stood up as Gladio came in — but they, too, stayed silent at the look on Gladio’s face. He slammed the door closed once Prompto was through it, turned the key and tucked it into his pocket. “Go. Shower. Now.”

Prompto just shoved his hands in his pockets and headed towards the bathroom. He could still hear them clear as a bell over the shower spray, even as they gathered on the balcony to talk. 

“So what is it?” Noct asked. “What’s been going on?”

“I found Prompto in...trouble, at a seedy club near the entrance. You don’t need to know the particulars. But I took care of it, they won’t let him back there.”

“And you’re quite sure of your hypothesis, Gladio?” Ignis asked carefully. 

“I’m positive,” he answered with conviction. “I didn’t see him actually taking anything, but I can tell. His symptoms yesterday afternoon were classic withdrawal, jonesing for a fix. All you talked about in his change of behaviour over the past few months, and the lack of appetite, even in some cases the increased libido. I can’t know what he was on, but he was high as a kite when I found him. The dilation of his pupils alone…”

Prompto blinked. Gladio thought was on _drugs_?

“How can you be sure, Gladio?” Noct pressed. “If you’re wrong, and I let you do all this…”

“Then he’ll forgive us.”

“What if he’s really sick though?” The prince continued. 

“I did my Master’s Thesis on addiction and rehabilitation, Noct. I know my stuff.” There was a long pause. “It’s what’s best for him, Noctis. Trust me.”

“Okay. ...okay. You’re in charge then, Gladio. I trust you.”


	8. Samples and Tests

He woke up horny and desperate. He knew he should be grinding up on Noctopus in their soft, comfy bed. But instead he was somewhere cold and hard, shivering and uncomfortable. He opened his eyes and yep, that was their bathtub. He sat up, wincing at the pain in his back because holy hell, bathtub is not posturepedic. Gladio sat on the closed toilet lid, his expression cold and unrelenting. 

“You come down yet?” He asked. 

He winced in the bright light of the bathroom. “Come down? Gladio, I’m not—”

“So that’s how it’s going to be.” Gladio had a test kit open on the sink counter. He grabbed a swab and stuck it in Prompto’s mouth, practically scraping off the inside of his cheek. “This will be your STI Screen,” he announced, as he put it in a Petri dish and sealed it up. “Until we get it back, I will padlock your belt shut if I have to.”

He winced. “I don’t think you get to judge me about my number of sex partners, Gladio,” he muttered. 

“The number, no. But I’m not running a barebacking fuckstall in a gay club to pay for my habit. So. Screening.” 

“I wasn’t… I’m not… there was no _money_ , Gladio. It wasn’t that.”

“You don’t honestly think that makes it better, do you?” The Shield deadpanned. “So. What are you on? Ecstasy?”

“Dude, I’m not _on_ anything!”

“GHB?” He continued. “You’re not injecting anything, I already looked you over for track marks. So I figured it’s not heroin or coke.”

“You’re not listening, I’m not on drugs,” he insisted, trying to sit up. “Where’s Noct and Iggy?”

“Recon. Asking around, seeing who’s selling to Blondie.”

He winced. “Don’t… don’t call me that.” He never liked the name, or the words on his door. 

“Not that I expect them to find out anything. Mostly I just want them out of the house in case this gets ugly.” He put a little plastic cup with a yellow lid on it. “Fill this up. Then I’ll know exactly what it is, even if you don’t know what you’re taking.”

Prompto stared at it. That was a specimen jar. For a urine sample. “Dude.”

“You’re getting clean, Prompto. Afterlife or not, we’re not gonna stand by and watch you destroy yourself.” He folded his arms. “You help me out, tell me what we need to know, then I can help you through this. I’ll know what medication I can get to ease your withdrawal symptoms. But if you make me fly blind, then you’re gonna have a bad time of it and I won’t be able to help.”

“You’re not listening to me,” he complained. “I’m not on drugs, I just—”

“I don’t have time to coddle you through the denial stage. Pee in the fucking cup, Prompto.”

“I don’t need to pee,” he mumbled. He hadn’t needed to in months. 

Gladio handed him a bottle of water, a whole litre. “Drink up then.”

“That’s not what I meant!” he huffed. 

“I know how to manually stimulate the swallowing reflex, Prompto. Don’t make me need to. Just drink the water.”

He sighed in defeat and opened the bottle. He didn’t drink it all at once, his stomach wasn’t that big! But Gladio didn’t stop glaring until the whole thing was empty. Then he sat back in the tub and stared back at him. 

Gladio kept checking the time. Every so often he’d send or receive a text — Prompto could hear the buzz. 

He was just as bored. He started picking through the different notes in Gladio’s scents until— “Huh.”

Gladio gave him a suspicious look. “What?”

“How long have you been fucking Iggy?” He asked, genuinely baffled by it. NPC Iggy hadn’t been fucking anyone, but that smell was fucking undeniable. Their scents combined, with lust and cum and olive oil used as lube and something sweeter too. Something he didn’t know how to pick but reminded him of Noct. 

Gladio’s jaw tensed. “If you think you can piss me off into leaving so you can go without giving me a sample, then you’re wrong.”

“Huh…? Oh. Dude. No, I already told you. I can’t pee. I just… whoa. Never saw that coming.” He sat back, stirring with arousal at the image of them together. “Never picked Iggy to be fuckbuddies with Insomnia’s Most Wanted. So how long? Not before Caem, right?”

Gladio’s fists bunched. “Ignis and I have had decades together, shut your fucking mouth. And stop trying to change the subject.”

“Decades.” In the real world then. Not this afterlife. “And you still…?”

“Fine!” Gladio snapped. “You’re making this go the hard way, Prompto!” He grabbed a pair of nail scissors and roughly cut a chunk of Prompto’s hair out, right at the fringe. “I don’t need you to willingly give me a sample, Prompto. Your hair will tell us exactly what you’re taking and how long you’ve been doing it.” Stuffing the hair clippings in a specimen bag, he gathered up the kit and stormed out of the bathroom. 

“You’re not listening to me!” Prompto yelled over the sound of the door slamming shut and locking. “I’m not taking drugs!”

He didn’t get a response. He heard Noct and Iggy come home, but Ignis agreed to catch up on their findings while he walked with Gladio to the labs. 

Gladio warned the prince: “He’s gonna try everything, Noct. Dig in to where it’s vulnerable, where you’re soft for him. Resist it, okay. He can’t leave that bathroom until I get back, got it?”

Noct must’ve nodded, because the other two left soon after. They were too far away for Prompto to eavesdrop on what they were saying about him. 

And then the boredom hit. Six! There was nothing to _do_ in this bathroom. He read the labels on all the products, counted tiles, searched his pockets again fruitlessly for his cell. Gladio must’ve taken it. 

“Come on, Noct!” Prompto yelled. “I’m dying of boredom in here!”

Footsteps approached the door. “I’m not supposed to be talking to you,” Noct said quietly. Sadly, almost. 

“Noct,” he complained. “Look, I’m not gonna ask you to bring me my cell or let me out, I’m sure Gladio’s banned both those options. But I’m going crazy in here. Bring me a book or _something_.”

Noct’s footsteps retreated, and Prompto thought he was abandoning him. He flopped against the tub, giving up. How long was he going to be stuck here? How could he convince Gladio he wasn’t an addict — at least not in the way he was thinking.

The door unlocked and opened, and Noct walked in with a jigsaw puzzle. He shut the door again quickly, locked it and palmed the key. “Sorry. This was the only board game thing I could find.”

“I’m not even mad,” Prompto said. He climbed out of the tub to sit on the tiles, so he and Noct could spread the pieces out on the floor in front of them. 

He forgot to account for the way he reacted to Noct’s presence, of his interrupted feed last night. Before an hour had passed - they finally had the outlines and were sorting by colour - he was squirming. Every time they leaned in close, he got another mouthful of Noct’s amazing scent. He was dripping with want, the seat of his boxers were soaked. 

He leaned close when Noct did, putting his hand on the prince’s. “Noct, buddy,” he said, his voice deep and husky. “Wanna screw around? I _want_ you. So bad right now.” He could practically taste it. 

Noct met his eyes, and they were wounded. Prompto couldn’t figure out why, and then he spoke: “did you really let strangers fuck you raw in a filthy toilet stall for money?”

He recoiled. It was something he’d never wanted Noct to know. Not his best buddy. Not the only person who’d ever really thought he was any good. “Where’d you hear that?” He asked evasively. 

“Over and over again, in the dodgy underworld of the city. Every time we brought you up by description, _Blondie_.” He looked away, his jaw tensing. “It’s true then.” “Not for money,” he said. “I mean, I think one of the bartenders was making a side business out of it. But I never saw any money.”

Noct stood up and walked to the door of the bathroom. “Why didn’t you come to me, Prompto? Why didn’t you tell me what’s going on? I could have helped you. Why didn’t you let me?”

Noct didn’t even know what he was talking about, but the words still hurt. “I couldn’t,” he whispered. “Not you, Noct. Never you. I… I care about you too much to get you mixed up in my shit.” 

“We’re meant to be friends.” Noct unlocked the door and stepped out. The sound of the lock clicking sounded really final. 

Prompto buried his face in his hands and cried. Well, at least he knew where all that water was going. Straight out of his tearducts.


	9. Victim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Siren-like mind control, drugging through body fluids, fucking to the point of unconsciousness.   
> Prompto’s first victim.

Prompto had been Hungry. He’d been desperate for it. But he realised he’d never been _starving_. Not like this. He was lying in the bathtub, he didn’t know how long it had been. He was cold, so fucking _cold_. Pain came back, after months of nothing but pleasure. 

Slowly it had started in between his legs, his cock and balls and ass. He’d jerked himself raw on day three, begging one of them to help, to touch him. They ignored him. But day four it had hurt too much, and then he couldn’t keep track of time any more. The pain spread slowly, and now everything hurt from the nailbeds of his toes to his hair follicles. 

The door opened. Ignis came in with a plate. Sandwich, it seemed like. He couldn’t focus — Ignis smelt so good. He shuddered a breath, wishing he could reach out for him. 

“Iggy,” he whispered. He could barely hear his own voice. “I need it. Please. Help me.”

“You didn’t eat your breakfast,” Ignis said, instead of answering. “You need to eat.”

“I need to feed.” He tried to sit up a little, pushing his pain-filled body to move. “Let me.”

“I brought you a sandwich,” he offered instead. 

He shook his head. “I bet Gladio doesn’t let you fuck him,” he said, slumping against the lip of the tub. “You could fuck me. I’d be so good for you. I’d let you do it however you want.”

Ignis pulled a face at him. “Enough, Prompto.” He stalked to the door and closed it firmly, the lock turning a moment later. 

Prompto slipped back into the tub, closing his eyes. He couldn’t do this. He needed to feed, needed someone’s cum. He was getting nowhere with Gladio and Iggy — and he hadn’t seen Noct since the first day. 

He twisted his head back, tilted his head until he could see the window. It was tiny. It was hardly tall enough to fit his head out, and slimmer than his shoulders. But he knew it was his only escape. He had to get out. 

He visualised it, slinking up to the window. Catlike, maybe. Smaller, slimmer in the shoulders — stretching and changing his body like liquid to slide out the window, down the wall and to the street below. 

He blinked. Twice. This was. The street. Outside their apartment building. He looked down at his hands, seeing them reform out of misty pink light. He swallowed anxiously — it looked just like the mist that surrounded the Melusine. 

Barefooted, he crossed through the city streets. Scents teased at his nose, but he followed the strongest. When his feet stopped, he was standing at the mouth of an alleyway. It was a small food stand, and Noct was standing behind the grill, face set in a cool reserve. 

He backed back into the shadows, trying to disappear as Noct’s head lifted up. It was Noct. Why was it always Noct?

He pushed away the compulsion to go back forward, to take what he needed from the prince. No not to Noct. He couldn’t take Noct. 

He lifted his nose, picked another scent. It wasn’t as enticing, but it was better than the others clogging the air. 

His feet padded across the cobblestones, steps light and almost floating. There was a balcony, and a figure standing there enjoying the breeze. It was that Kingsglaive. He’d come back. 

He whispered towards the man, he wasn’t even sure he was using actual words. But slow, dreamy — almost hypnotised — the Kingsglaive looked down at him. He smiled invitingly, and turned into a dark alley nearby. 

It was only a minute or so until the Kingsglaive was nearly tripping over himself to follow. Prompto smiled and began to shimmy out of his pyjamas pants. The man was on him in seconds, pressing himself into his arms. Prompto wrapped him in a type grip, then shifted up his legs and hips. Thighs wrapped around the Kingsglaive’s ribs, rubbing his slick and ready entrance over the clothes crotch. 

“So beautiful,” he whispered, hands reaching up to cup Prompto’s face almost reverently. 

“I need you,” he whimpered. “I need you inside me.”

The Kingsglaive frantically ripped at his fly, snapping the zipper open in his eagerness to free himself. Prompto gave an animal howl of pleasure as the dick pressed _inside_ him. 

Yes, this was it. This was what he needed. He rode hard, meeting the Kingsglaive’s thrusts with eager rocks of his own. 

It wasn’t long until he came, and Prompto moaned. He could feel life flooding through him, finally fulfilling his need. But it wasn’t enough, after so long of starvation. 

He pressed close, not letting the softening dick escape his entrance. He squeezed, trying to encourage it to plump up again. “Come on,” he cooed. “Come for me again. Come in me again.”

The Kingsglaive groaned. “Pretty boy,” he panted, “I just came. I need a break.”

Prompto shook his head. He reached back to his own entrance, sliding his fingers up his crack to collect his slick. Once they were coated, he painted the clear, shiny slick over the Kingsglaive’s lips. 

He licked them and groaned. “Taste so good…!” His dick plumped up again and Prompto crooned in satisfaction. He rode hard, until the man came again and again. 

The Kingsglaive’s strength buckled and he slid down onto the ground, lying sprawled and boneless. But he was still rock hard, and Prompto ground against him. Grasping, milking him dry again and again. 

He felt full, for the first time in forever. He eased off and collapsed onto the ground next to him, laughing softly. “Man,” he sighed, contentedly. “I needed that. Thank you.”

There was no response. Confused, Prompto raised up on one elbow. The Kingsglaive was pale — his face almost bloodless. He hardly moved except for a really shallow rise and fall of his chest. He didn’t react when Prompto slapped at his face, or shook his shoulders. The bliss of his feed twisted and he felt _sick_. He’d did this. He’d fucked and milked a guy to the point of unconsciousness. 

He summoned an Elixir and crushed it over the man’s body. The colour returned to his face, but he didn’t wake. 

Crowding up to a wall in fear, he screamed until a couple Hunters rushed over. He was vague about their questions, but he couldn’t help but feel relieved when they picked him up to carry him to a medic. 

Prompto stayed where he was, curled up tight, until a shadow fell over him. He didn’t need to look up to know it was Gladio. 

“Did you get another hit?” He asked, his voice a low, emotionless growl. 

He nodded, still reeling from the horror from what he’d done. How far he’d gone. He felt human for the first time in days, and it came with overwhelming guilt. 

“Can you move?” 

He shook his head. 

Gladio sighed and lifted him up in his arms. “You know I have to step it up now, right?”

He nodded. “I know.”

“One day you’ll thank me for this, Prompto. I know you can’t appreciate it now. But when you’re clean, you will.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “I don’t think I’ll ever be clean again.” He combed his fingers through the fabric of Gladio’s jacket. “Don’t tell Noct. Please?”

“I have to.”

He closed his eyes and slumped, giving up. “Yeah. I guess you do.”


	10. Muddle Through

Gladio had simply said “let’s get out of the city” and that had been that. Their gear packed into bags — Ignis and Gladio packed his, thoroughly checking everything to make sure he wasn’t hiding drugs in the seams of his stuff — loaded into the car with their camping stuff, and off they went. 

Prompto was feeling okay, and he hated it. Cause he knew the reason _why_ he felt Okay was because he’d nearly killed a man whose name he didn’t even know. But at least he still felt human. 

He was good for a week. They drove around, retook Hunts. And then Ezra gave them a key, to the mysterious locked doors in the dungeons. 

They started in Keycatrich, and it was a winding, twisting plunge downwards. Prompto _thrived_. The constant battle, the cool comfort of the dungeons. By the time they reached a campsite — a campsite, in a secret dungeon? Talk about save point! — the guys were beginning to complain about the darkness. 

“I feel like I’m never gonna see the sun again,” Noct whined.

“The continuous darkness does wear on one’s morale,” Ignis agreed. 

Prompto looked between them, confused. He couldn’t relate. It was so soothing and dark down here, none of the glaring sunlight bouncing off everything shiny to smack him in the eyes. 

A realisation twisted in his gut. Oh… That was. That was a bad sign. He stood and stretched. “Well, I’m gonna hit the hay!” he declared. “I’m exhausted.”

Gladio’s eyes narrowed at him slightly. “It’s three in the afternoon,” he pointed out. 

“Yeah but who can even tell around here?” He asked. “I’d have a better sense of it if you gave me back my phone,” he hinted. 

“You have a watch,” Gladio dismissed. 

“It’s analogue,” he defended. He yawned and waved them off, heading into the tent Gladio had assembled. 

He passed out quickly, but it was a restless sleep. He kept drifting in and out, catching the sounds of the guys’s conversation, an enticing cloud of fantasies, the sounds of demons in the corridors below, and something. Something deeper down that sung to him, called out for him to go to it. 

He jolted to full wakefulness as the tent opened and Noct stepped in, socked feet lightly pressing down the mattressed cover on the ground. He kept his eyes on the tent wall, where the flicker of the fire caused little slants of light to dance across the fabric. 

He and Noct hadn’t been alone together for a long time. Noct was always careful not to be paired with him, to make sure there was always a buffer between them. Prompto understood — and though he couldn’t admit it, he was glad. It would keep Noct safer from him. But he _did_ miss their friendship, the closeness that was the two of them that had vanished since… since their last conversation in the bathroom. 

The layout in the tent had used to be simple and unspoken. Prompto tucked into one wall, Noct curled up around his back, Ignis on his other side against the other wall, and Gladio a protective first-line at the door, stretched out by their feet. Since leaving Lestallum, it had been an awkward shuffle that left Noct and Prompto against opposite walls, with Gladio’s hulking mass between them, crunched up a little to give Ignis room at their feet. Gladio didn’t spoon — which was just unfair, and Prompto always felt cold at night. 

But as Prompto stared at the wall, listening to Noct, he was confused and somewhat comforted to feel warmth lay down beside him, instead of so very far away. Noct’s enticing scent teased at his nose, but he was still full so he could bear it. 

As Noct’s breath rose and fell in a comforting tide behind his back, Prompto managed to drift off to sleep again. But it was restless — half-delirious dreams dispersed with the awareness through smell and sound that Gladio and Ignis were hooking up on the distant edge of the campsite. His legs twitched a little with the urge to get up, plunge deeper into the darkness and follow that siren call. 

But then Noct moved up behind him, fit his body comfortably around Prompto’s back, and held him close. “Shhh, Prom,” he murmured, his voice husky with sleepiness. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” One hand released his torso to shift up and stroke through his hair. “I’m here, Prom. It’s okay.”

He took a shaky breath and let himself curl back into his best buddy. “I thought you were mad at me,” he mumbled. 

Noct sighed, nuzzled his nose into Prompto’s hair. “I’m not mad, Prompto. I’m… I’m upset. It hurts to see you like this, when I can’t help you. This is my fault.”

“It’s not,” Prompto refused, shaking his head. “How could this possibly have been your fault?”

“I knew something was wrong but I didn’t do anything to help you,” Noct said, his voice mournful. “I thought you had a boyfriend, that you were hiding it from me. I thought you didn’t want to tell me because you knew I—” he cut himself off. 

“Knew you what?” Prompto asked, bewildered by what could possibly be the end of that thought. 

“...knew I wouldn’t approve.” He finished evasively. Somehow Prompto knew that wasn’t how he’d initially wanted to finish his sentence. “But you were getting so twitchy, so distracted. I thought it might’ve… I thought he might’ve been abusing you. And then Iggy and Gladio came back and they could tell right away something was up with you. Gladio only needed one day to figure out and I was…” Hands clutched him tight, curling their bodies impossibly closer. “I feel so useless. I couldn’t see what was really wrong, and I can’t help you now. I should’ve known what was really wrong, but I didn’t and now you’re suffering.”

“Noct,” he said gently. He took up the prince’s hands and linked their fingers together to give them a squeeze. “You can’t think like that. I tried everything I could to hide it from you, to keep you…” _Safe from me_. “To keep you out of my mess.”

“We’re supposed to be in this together, Prompto,” Noct said. “Your messes are my messes. I could’ve helped.”

He cringed. Because Noct could’ve, and maybe even volunteered to if he knew the truth. But Prompto couldn’t let that happen. It was exactly what Ardyn was planning. “Not with this. You would’ve been wrecked by it.”

Noct pressed closed. “I keep… I keep trying to reconcile it. All those men you had. It makes me so…” His fists bunched around the fabric of Prompto’s shirt. “So mad. It’s your choice, I know, and I don’t control your body but… I can’t help but…” His fists clenched again, and smoothed the fabric down. “Could you tell me that you really wanted it? Can you say that you wanted to be that guy, that you were happy in Blondie’s Sluthole letting them all use you and disrespect you? I think I could come to accept it if I you can tell me it’s what you wanted.”

Prompto shuddered. “I can’t,” he admitted. “I hated all that. I didn’t like what they called me, or how they treated me. But I… it was the best choice.”

“Then I can’t take knowing either,” Noct whispered, voice wracked with unhappiness. “And I’m so sorry I can’t. That I’m useless at helping you get better.”

“You don’t need to help me, Noct,” he promised, placing his hands flat over his buddy’s. “But we’ll muddle through. We’ll find a way to be okay with each other again.”

Noct held him close, and the two of them waited until sleep overcame them. 


	11. Dream A Little Dream Of Me

Prompto was dreaming. He knew it was a dream, because they were back in Insomnia. He was in the throne room — the half-rubble, Ardynified one he only sometimes remembered. 

He had cuffs on his hands, holding them out in a T-pose, and a strap around his torso. But he was lying flat on the ground and it wasn’t Ardyn torturing him. Instead Noct kneeled on his hands and knees above him, smiling. 

There was something wrong with his eyes, a soft pink glow deep in his eyes that Prompto could remember in the Kingsglaive’s. He was distantly guilty, knowing that he’d used his daemon magic to ensnare Noct like a siren — but in the dream he was just Hungry. 

Noct was kissing down his neck, grinding their clothed crotches together. “So beautiful, Prom. My perfect, sexy Prom.”

He whined, aching with need, arching his hips up. “Noct, I need you,” he begged. 

“But you made me wait,” Noct scolded, his lips curling into a smile against Prompto’s pulse. “You went to all those strangers when all I want is for you to belong to me, forever.”

“I do!” he insisted, straining against the cuffs so he could move Noct where he wanted him. “I’m yours, Noct. I’ve only ever belonged to you.”

“Then say it,” Noct teased, rubbing one hand against the soaked crack of his jeans. 

“Say what?” He whined, trying to thrust back into the touch. 

“Say that it’s me you need,” he replied calmly, “that only I can satisfy your hunger, that I’m the only one who will truly make you happy.”

He keened and nodded frantically. “It’s you, Noct,” he cried, “you’re what I need to satisfy my hunger, the only one who can really fill me up. I need _you._ ”

And then Noct was lifting his head, but it wasn’t Noct’s face. Ardyn sneered at him, brown eyes cruel. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

In the blink of an instant that only made sense in dreams, he was on his knees, front pressed to the filthy floor. Noct was fucking into him with a desperate, animalistic movement. Neck twisted painfully, his cheek shoved into the ground by one of Noct’s hands, he could see Ardyn lounging comfortably on the throne, just _watching_.

And then in the next instant he could only focus on Noct — the hard warmth sliding in and out of him, feeling him up so very perfectly. He thrust back into the rhythm, chasing Noct to keep him full every time he tried to draw back out. He needed Noct close and deep, buried all the way in so he could cum, fill him to bursting over and over again with jizz. Feed him like he’d been needing for months. 

But awareness from the waking world ripped the dream apart like wet tissue. Hands were shaking his shoulders roughly, Noct’s voice hissing: “Prompto! Wake up!”

“Huh, what?” He asked, still reeling from the dream. 

Embarrassed and awkward, Noct whispered sympathetically: “Prompto, I think you wet the bed.”

He froze and grounded himself in feeling the real world. In a way, he had. His jeans were completely soaked and dripping with it — from his own slick. With a mortified whimper, he scrambled out of the tent as fast as he could tear the zippers open. Gladio muttered sleepily in protest as he got trampled in the escape, but was soon back to snoring. 

He hid in the distant corner of the dark dungeon, kicking out of his soiled pants and briefs. He rubbed himself as clean as he could with his shirt — breath giving little hitches of unwanted pleasure as the fabric ran over his sensitive ass and entrance. 

Summoning his spare plug out of the armiger — no he was not explaining to **anyone** why he’d stored it in their magical weapon cache — he quickly shoved it into himself to stopper the flow. 

Ifrit’s Belt. He was Hungry again. Just a little bit, a niggling that promised to slowly grow and consume him with need — but his buffet of the Kingsglaive had finally run out. What the fuck was he supposed to do?

Summoning his spare outfit from the armiger — the grey cargos and the red shirt — he redressed and carried the soiled clothes back to the fire pit. He summoned the laundry tub out of the camping void, thankfully when it came full of soapy water already. Bless Iggy and his preparedness. 

He shoved in his clothes, and couldn’t meet Noct’s eyes when the prince came out to hand him his Crownsguard gear too. He was dressed in that white tee that went transparent in the water, and those tight jeans that had haunted him even before his transformation. 

He just scrubbed the clothes and gave little sniffles as he tried not to cry out of shame. He’d soaked through his own pants and Noct’s too. The prince thought he’d _pissed himself_ in his sleep. He almost wished that was true, at least that meant he was just a clutz instead of a predatory monster. 

When the soap dissolved any traces of his shame, he hung the clothes out over the fire to dry. He lifted his head, finally acknowledging Noct sitting on one of the folding chairs. “Please don’t tell anyone,” he begged. 

“I won’t,” Noct promised. “The sheets were okay. Just… just the clothes.”

He cringed. “If you could just shoot me in the head and let me die before I shame myself again, that’d be great,” he mumbled. 

“It’s okay, Prompto,” Noct said, too soft. Prompto didn’t deserve his pity or his kindness. He’d been dreaming of fucking him and got into it so much he’d leaked slick everywhere. “We’ll pretend it never happened.”

But Prompto couldn’t. Not with the Hunger simmering in his stomach at wait, and the memory of the words Ardyn had made him speak in his dreams. 

_I need **you**_.

He shuddered — the thought he’d been fighting off since the very beginning, what he suspected Ardyn had purposefully done to torment them. Noct was what his body — what this daemon craved for. The ultimate satiation to his never ending hunger was his best friend’s jizz. And he’d sworn against ever letting it happen. 


	12. Truth

Prompto sat on the natural incline of the haven outside the prairie outpost. He’d excused himself to bathroom a while ago, but he couldn’t make himself move. 

The Hunger was growing, creeping up his torso, and he couldn’t make himself go back. 

Boots crunched against crumbling dirt and sand, but the smell that teased his nose was Gladio. Hot metal and sweat and flowers and Ignis — with the raw, spicy scent of Masculine Virility and the same sweet smell he got from Ignis. 

The Shield sighed. “Prompto. You’re just sitting here in the dark.”

“I know,” he said quietly, eyes tracking a wandering Iron Giant in the distance. It seemed to sense Gladio and wandered closer, but was still wary of the powers of the haven. 

“You should come back to camp,” he suggested. 

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not even in the protections of the haven, Prompto,” Gladio continued. “You have to come up.”

“I can’t,” he whispered. “It hurts.”

The Shield gave another sigh and sat down next to him. “What hurts?”

“The Haven,” he whispered. “It hurts me.”

Gladio looked at him a long moment, considering. Then he spoke quietly: “that’s just your withdrawal symptoms messing with your brain, Prompto. The haven isn’t hurting you. The protections only repel daemons.”

He gave a quiet, bitter laugh that quickly dissolved into wet sobs. Gladio put an arm around his shoulders that he flinched away from because he knew otherwise he’d press into it. “You still don’t get it, Gladio. You don’t listen to me.”

“I listen, Prompto. I just won’t let you lie to me,” he corrected, his voice surprisingly gentle. “But if you’re ready to tell me the truth then I’m ready to hear it.”

He shuddered, curling up around his hollow stomach, hugging his knees to his chest. “I’m not on drugs.”

Gladio gave an angry disappointed sigh and shifted to stand. “Prompto,” he growled furiously, “I thought you were going to—”

“See!” Prompto cried, shaking with a sob. “I told you! You don’t listen!”

“I’ll listen when it’s the truth!” Gladio snapped. 

“I’m trying to tell you but you won’t let me get it out! You won’t believe me that it’s not drugs! Ardyn _did something_ to me and you won’t even let me explain!”

Gladio’s entire body had tensed up as soon as he heard the name of the Imperial Chancellor. Slowly, warily, he sat back down next to Prompto. “What did he do, then?” He asked, grudgingly accepting. 

Prompto sobbed wetly and wiped at his eyes. “You don’t believe me. You keep telling me it’s drugs, that I’m denial, that it’s withdrawal. But I know what’s happening, and I’m not— It was never drugs, Gladio and I wish it was that easy!”

“Everything pointed to you being an addict,” he replied, his voice almost apologetic about it. 

“I’m not saying I’m not. In a way… I guess I am. But not the way you’re thinking.”

“Then what way?”

He shuddered and turned to look at the Shield, bathed in moonlight. He was Hungry, but he shoved it deep down. He needed to get this out, now that Gladio was finally paying attention. “You took the samples. What did they say?”

“Your STI panel came back clean,” Gladio explained carefully, “But they couldn’t get the results from your hair. There must’ve been a daemon attack, they think. The sample was corrupted.”

“The hair sample wasn’t corrupted by daemons, Gladio,” he explained shakily. “I was.”

Gladio blinked slowly, eyes roving over his expression. As if trying to see some lie, some deception there. “Go on.”

“Ardyn came up to me, in Lestallum. He told me he had a gift for Noct, and then he… he put it inside me…” He ran his fingers over his stomach. “I don’t know what it was. I think it’s like the Melusine…”

“The Melusine,” Gladio repeated, but he didn’t seem to understand it. 

He swallowed and turned his face so he was looking out at the prairie. “You think I was fucking those men to trade for drugs,” he whispered. “But fucking them was the drug. Or…” He swallowed. “Their jizz. I need it. Need to feed on it.”

Gladio swallowed audibly. “You’re sure?” He asked quietly. “It’s not just the act, the energy — of the finish?”

He shook his head. “Some of the men tried to use condoms, at first. Before I made it clear that wasn’t what I was after. It didn’t help — it didn’t feed me.”

“Okay,” the Shield said gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you before. Now I know what you need, we can figure out a game plan.”

“You need to let me go, Gladio,” he said quietly. “If I can get enough, and regular, then I’m fine.”

“If you call what you were going through when Iggy and I arrived being fine, then you’re wrong.” Gladio said firmly. “We’ll all talk about it tomorrow. For tonight, we’ll stay in the caravan. Can’t have you forced to stay in the haven if it’s causing you harm.”

He shook his head. “No. Not everyone.” He turned to look at Gladio, begging him with his eyes. “Not Noct. You can’t tell Noct.”

“You can’t expect me to keep this a secret,” Gladio disagreed. “He’s worried about you.”

“No, Gladio, please. Listen.” He shuddered. “Ardyn did this to mess with him. I…” He swallowed tightly. “I’m drawn to him. More than anyone. If he knows… he’ll insist on helping. You know he will. And then I’ll hurt him.”

“Is that a threat?” Gladio asked, his frame tending at the perceived warning. 

He shook his head. “No. It’s… it’s more of a terrifying reality.” He curled up tighter again. “When you… when you found me. Did you see them taking the Kingsglaive when you went past?”

“Yeah,” the Shield answered warily. 

“That was me,” he whispered. “I did that to him. I bewitched him and drugged him my fluids and I fucked him and fucked him and fucked him until he was on death’s door.” He swallowed. “He fed me better than anyone I’ve ever had, and look what I did to him. If I taste Noct, even just a little…”

Gladio sighed. “You and me will go to the caravan tonight,” he suggested instead. “Tomorrow Iggy will send Noct off to do something and we’ll talk about it. We haven’t found a problem yet Iggy can’t solve. I doubt he’s about to start now.”


	13. Exposition

Ignis took a steady sip of his can of Ebony, set it down on the plastic table outside the caravan. He turned it so the label was facing him, then lifted his eyes to Prompto. “You liken it to the Melusine?”

“ _That’s_ what you got out of all that?” Prompto asked, staring at him incredulously. 

“I have considered the rest of the information and am constructing a hypothesis,” he answered smoothly. “That is what I choose to question at present.”

Prompto just sighed. He was Hungry and it was making him grumpy, but Gladio had refused to let him go Feed before they had a discussion. “Yeah. Like the Melusine. It fed from men, and it used to be the a Hunter. And...I had pink mist powers, like we saw on her.”

Ignis drummed his fingers on the surface of the table. “This was a hunt you and Noct took while Gladio and I were absent, I take it?” He asked. 

Prompto paused to consider it. “Oh. Yeah. I guess so.”

“If you’ll give me a moment to consult my bestiary.” Ignis disappeared into research mode. 

Prompto lost thread of what they were doing… Iggy smelt so yummy, it wasn’t fair. Prompto wanted to slide under the table while he was busy tapping away at his cell. Maybe if he went slowly, the advisor wouldn’t notice until he was already. 

His movement was stopped by a firm, meaty hand on his shoulder. “No,” Gladio said forbiddingly. 

He whined. “But I’m hungry…”

“Just wait,” he growled. 

Prompto huffed and slumped in his chair. Ignis finally set down his cell and took off his glasses to clean. His eyes were so pretty, such a lovely green…

“The Melusine,” he was saying, and slid his glasses back on, “appears to be a corrupted form of an older daemon. Or a set of daemons, that have been banished for some number of centuries — only existing in twisted, mixed breed forms like the Melusine.”

“So…?” Prompto asked, huffing slightly. 

“They called them Incubi and Succubi. A demon that took form of an attractive male or female respectively, in order to pray on humans. The latter appears to be Prompto’s infection — as its purpose was to absorb the semen of human males.”

“...I got stuck with a lady demon?” He whined. 

Ignis gave a brief frown. “Given the Chancellor’s intended target was his highness, I would suspect so. You haven’t been out impregnating women with daemonic spawn, which is the purpose of an Incubus.”

He gagged. “Ugh. No. None of the ladies. I’m all about the dudes right now.” He leaned forward, batting his lashes at Ignis. “Pretty dudes…”

Gladio pushed him back into his seat. 

“Perhaps we ought to allow him to feed before we continue our discussion? That is thoroughly distracting.”

He smirked. “Do I distract you, Ignis?” He purred. And then he absolutely shrieked when he felt icy cold water dumped down his shirt. “Dude!”

“Stop trying to seduce Iggy,” Gladio groused. “What else?”

“Well… to defend Prompto, he may not quite be able to control himself. Succubi are drawn to powerful men, in particular those associated with the Crystal of Lucis. The demons were able to be eradicated because they all went after the king of the time, who was able to vanquish them.”

“But if they’re all gone, how did he get stuck with one?” Gladio groused. 

“If the legends we learned are to believe and Ardyn is the Healer turned Accursed, then he absorbed countless daemons in his human life. He may have had a Succubus in his repertoire with which to infect Prompto with.” Ignis explained. “He must have known that Prompto would be drawn to Noctis above all others. Not only is he the king of Lucis and the inheritor of the kings’s power, he is the anointed King of Light. To quote a — frankly abominable — series of pop fiction, Noct is his ‘ _personal brand of heroin_ ’.”

Prompto lifted his nose to the air, but he couldn’t smell Noct anywhere. He squirmed restlessly, wanting to go track him down. “Where is Noct?”

“I sent him fishing. Never you mind where.” He clasped his fingers on the table. “Prompto. Shortly before my arrival, was there anything unusual about your feeding routine?”

He hummed as he remembered, spreading his legs wantonly. “That Kingsglaive came to the club. He filled me up _so good_.” He reached down to pet himself heavily and enticingly through his jeans — and huffed in protest when Gladio just lifted his bicep to prevent him from making any more contact. 

“Did you have anyone else on that particular night?” Ignis continued. 

“No?” He asked, wrinkling his forehead up in confusion at the question. Why did Ignis want to know. “Does that make you feel better, Ignis? You don’t want to imagine me sloppy with others? Well I promise it’s been _a week_ since I’ve had anyone. I’d be so _tight_ for you.”

“Titan’s Chain,” Gladio cursed. “Would you stop that? Leave Iggy alone!”

“It’s quite alright, Gladiolus. He’s merely locked on, so to speak, to the most powerful and magically connected male in the vicinity. He’s not in control of his actions at this precise moment.”

Gladio’s jaw was tight. “Why does it matter about the Kingsglaive anyway?” He muttered. 

“I suspect that different men satiate the daemon for longer periods,” Ignis explained. “He was quite well for a full day after one feed from the Glaive. And — as unfortunate as the attack before we left Lestallum was — he hasn’t been out of sorts until yesterday.”

“So?” Gladio prompted, confused, grabbing Prompto to stop him sliding under the table again. 

“I believe it would be beneficial if you were to take over Prompto’s...feeding.” 

“I’d rather it be you,” Prompto purred at the advisor. 

“Me?” Gladiolus echoed, as if surprised by the suggestion. 

“It would be better to keep his Highness as separate from this as we can until we know more,” Ignis explained. “And while I am not immune to his charms — supernatural or human — I’d rather…”

Gladio swallowed audibly. “I gave you my word that yours would be the only body I gave myself to,” he whispered, as if not wanting Prompto to hear them. “I’ve honoured my vows, Ignis.”

“Yes, Gladiolus. I know. And I appreciate that more than I know how to express. But, what is the colloquial? I am giving you a ‘free pass’ for Prompto.”

That sweet smell was in the air and Prompto gagged as he realised what it was. “Oh fuck,” he sneered. “You two aren’t just _fucking_. You’re _in love_!”

Gladio smacked him in the shoulder. “Shut it, Prompto.”

“It comes down to these facts: Prompto cannot be allowed to pray on four or five men a night. It must be you or I to feed him, and if my calculations are correct it should do at least once every other day.”

Gladio sighed. “So… taking one for the team?” He groused. 

“Oh, don’t pretend you’re unhappy with the task, my love,” Ignis said with a fond smirk. “You told me all your fantasies when we became serious.”

A delicious flush under the Shield’s skin, he stood up abruptly. “Come on then, Prompto. If you’re Hungry, I’m on the menu.”

He stood up eagerly, following Gladio into the caravan. He turned and winked at Ignis over his shoulder. “You can come watch if you want. I don’t mind.”


	14. Back to Normal

Things were pretty great with Gladio and Ignis on Operation Succubus. (Which was definitely its name even though Ignis frowned and continued to call it Combating the The Infection. Whatever. Operation Succubus.)

Gladio’s dick was amazing. It was perfectly proportionate for a man of his size, by which Prompto meant _huge_. Okay not Size Queen Porn size — or _The Cowboy_ — But big. And holy fuck did he know how to use it. Prompto just got to lie there and take it, and try not to be swept up in the absolute pleasure of it. 

The men before, in the Stall, had never put in any effort to get him to enjoy it. Hardly bothered hitting his prostate, unless it was by accident. Gladio wasn’t like that. He tried angles, found erogenous zones and stroked his dick mercilessly while they fucked. 

Sometimes he wrangled an orgasm or two out of Prompto before he even came himself. 

“Iggy is a lucky, lucky man,” Prompto breathed, lying on the bed next to Gladio the first time they’d fucked. 

Whatever, Gladio still didn’t spoon though. Which was a crime against little spoons everywhere, cause imagine being surrounded by all that muscle and length? 

Despite Prompto’s attempts at seduction, Iggy just would not join them for a threesome. Wouldn’t even come watch! Even though Prompto could smell him outside every time, hard with listening in ‘to make sure Prompto didn’t lose control and drain Gladio’. Sure. 

Anyway, they figured out a system. Settling in Galdin Quay — where Noct didn’t have to be convinced to go fishing, he headed out on his own — they set up camp at the Haven down the beach. While Noctis enjoyed twilight fishing, Gladio would fuck and feed him. It usually lasted about a day and a half, so on the second morning, Prompto got to suck that dick. 

Hey that was a discovery! Blowjobs did work, but they took a while to… digest, or whatever. It was three days between fuckings, and in those three days he felt great. 

He was almost back to normal, playing around with Noctis, joking with the other two, taking shots of Galdin Quay. 

They travelled back and forth, going to dungeons and fighting the menace beneath Lucis. Every time, something sung to Prompto deep down below, called out to him. 

Then one day he accidentally figured it out. It was the seals themselves. The big ones, containing the Boss daemon. And now he knew, because he got stuck behind one. 

They stumbled into the last room and the psychomancer spawned — and Noct promptly decided to Nope Out. The team darted back through the entrance but Prompto...got stuck. He tried to push himself forward but the barrier prevented him. Iggy saved the day, by declaring he was Confused and physically dragging him over the seal. “Let’s regroup, shall we?”

So. Yeah. Daemon traps, worked on Prompto. 

That fight was a doozy too. When they healed up and went in, they were so young and full of life. The psychomancer beat them down quick but they survived and made it back out, only to run into the Midgardsormr outside. 

And then Prompto made an observation. 

Okay, see, Noct straight up died at one point. 

They were all screaming as they saw the prince’s blood stop flowing and his chest stop. But — Hey, afterlife! — some sort of glowing red light surrounded him and he was back on his feet. Full of vigour again. A cut he’d got on his finger from a fish the week before was gone from his finger too, even though he’d left it to heal and it had scarred. 

Prompto cried a lot and would not stop hugging his buddy. Noct held him close and soothed him, stroking his hair and whispering: “it’s okay, Prom. I can’t double-die, right? You saw the light — I’m okay now. Perfectly fine. Good as new.”

Good as new. That phrase haunted him as he tried to go on with the day, as Gladio fucked him later that night while Ignis took Noctis shopping for supplies, as he laid in the arms of his very much alive best friend and tried to sleep. Good as new. 

Reset to factory settings. 

Back to normal. 

And then he got a horrible, horrible idea. He snuck out, ditched his phone, and rode a chocobo onward to glory. Or, rather, to Durrell Caverns. More specifically, to the sealed room deep underground that still called his name. 

Next time, he really had to run his plans by Iggy first. 


	15. Rescue

The Succubus strode back and forth across the dungeon, misting between steps when walking became too tiresome. The King of Light would come, with his retinue — they had affection for this vessel, they would be determined to save it. Human emotions always did make them weak and predictable. 

She would trick them into taking him past the seal, and then he would ensnare them all and _feed_ until they were dry husks. _Then_ she would go to that delicious city and make it her own. 

It was not what The Accursed had planned for her, or this vessel. He wanted her to toy with the King’s pathetic little human heart, but that had not proved beneficial for _her_ needs. The vessel had fed her on inferior seed for months, and then she’d been starved — and just when they were getting a regular feed off that delicious, muscular Amicitia, the vessel had only gone and trapped them both in this damned seal. 

She heard voices — familiar ones — and purred in pleasure. It was the Amicitia, and the other one. His beloved — who smelled of the Ring’s Blessings. But she couldn’t hear the King of Light. 

She growled, flitting from one side of the chamber to the other. No, no, it would not do. She needed his power — the King of Light’s seed to give her power before the satisfaction of their Hunger woke the Vessel. 

She raised her nose to scent the air and growled. No no no, this was not according to her plans! She needed all **three** of them, but especially the King. The King most of all. 

“Prompto!” their voices echoed down the halls. 

She flitted back to the normal shape of her Vessel, pressing up to the seal. “Iggy!” she called in the vessel’s most desperate voice. “Gladio! Help me! I’m stuck down here!”

“Prompto!” They called back. 

She flitted about with impatience while she waited for them to reach the chamber, but made sure she was in Vessel form by the time they rounded into sight. “Where’s Noct?” She asked, giving his voice that pathetic little whine. 

“Waiting in case you returned,” Ignis explained. 

She pressed deeper against the seal. “Let me out, Iggy. I’ve been stuck in here for ages, I’m _starving_ …”

“Yes, let’s take care of that first,” the bespectacled man said. With a gesture, he instructed the Amicitia to pass through the seal. “You need to feed, Prompto.”

No, this was not the way it had to go. She whined, pressed further. “But Iggy, I want you,” she pleaded, “let me out and I’ll make it so good for you.”

A quirk of a smile crossed his lips, and he pushed up his spectacles. “It’s a very good facsimile,” he informed her, “but we know Prompto. Now, you’re going to feed from Gladiolus — just the once — and then when Prompto is back in control, we’ll free him from the seal.”

She writhed in fury, using the extension of her power to grip the Amicitia in a tight, serpentine grasp. “I’ll kill him,” she warned, hissing through sharpened teeth, “drain him of every last drop of energy his husk can give out.”

“Then you’ll be stuck behind that seal until you die,” Iggy replied calmly. “I suspect it shan’t be long now. It’s been weeks since you’ve fed from Gladiolus. And by the sound of things, you’ve been trapped here ever since with nobody to sate your hunger.”

“Your precious Prompto will die if I do!” She snarled, gripping her coils of power tighter around the Amicitia until he choked. 

“Perhaps.” He adjusted his gloves calmly. “Now. Sup from Gladiolus, but just the once.”

She writhed in fury, flitted to the other side of the chamber and back again. She could smell his resolve, he really would let them both die rather than free her. 

She turned to the Amicitia, pinning him to the floor with her coils. Perhaps… if she drained them both quick enough, she could maintain permanent control over the Vessel. Returning to form, she slunk over to his body and pawed at his sizeable crotch. “Iggy,” she whined, using the Vessel’s voice, “I really want you. Come on.” She undid the belt and leather trousers, peeling them down the deliciously muscular thighs. “You can fuck my mouth while I ride him,” she enticed, scenting the air for his increase in arousal. “Or you can fuck him while he fucks me, and I’ll eat him out afterwards. Please, Iggy, I need it.”

He smelt of desire, his erection obvious in the air, but he was so damned tightly leashed! 

“Sup from Gladiolus once,” he continued, his voice ever calm, “and once Prompto is in control we will free him from the Seal.”

She keened at him, even as she slid her Vessel’s soaked and ready entrance over the sizeable cock. It was so peculiar how her magics had effected a masculine body. It did feel ever so good. 

The Amicitia lasted interminably long — there were times when stamina was not a blessing. But finally his sac emptied, filling the vessel’s entrance with his potent, virile seed. It, too, was enhanced by the powers of the Crystal. 

But once he was softened, she snarled. She could _feel_ her control slipping, as the satiation woke the Vessel from his listless place. She dug claws into the Amicitia’s shoulders, determined to stay in. But they began to recede as the light of the Crystal banished her back into the dark depths of the Vessel’s body. 

Prompto blinked awake, making a soft noise of confusion. He was still in the dungeon, still so very very _Hungry_. But there was warmth in him, chasing away the icy cold, a feed combating the clashing of starvation. But it wasn’t enough.

He looked down, blinking as he saw himself straddling Gladio’s hips. “H-huh?” He whimpered. But the smell of Gladio was getting to him, he rocked his hips to encourage him to plump up again as he looked around. That smell, that was Iggy. 

“Nooo…” He whined, even as he felt Gladio firming inside him. “What are you two doing? You can’t be here. Not yet…”

“Prompto,” Ignis’s voice called to him, gentle and enticing. “Come here.”

“M’hungry,” he denied, shaking his head. “So Hungry…”

“I know, but Gladio’s already fed you once…”

“Iggy,” Gladio grunted. “You’re giving me blueballs here. I'm already half hard again.” His hips thrust up, such power and strength. Prompto mewled in pleasure. 

But then something else caught his nose. He whipped his head around, eyes locking on Ignis. His hand gently pumping over a long, slender but still leaking erection. 

“Ah… come on, Prompto,” the accented voice encouraged. “You know you’d rather feed from me. I’ll let you suck me if you leave Gladio alone.”

He whined, crawling towards Ignis — hissing when he came to a stop suddenly and against his control. He licked his lips, drool escaping down his chin. “I don’t want to suck,” he protested. “I want to ride you.”

Ignis’s hand came out, touching his shoulder and coaxing him over the barrier of the seal. He pressed the tip of his dick against Prompto’s lips. “Come on, Prompto. Suck me down until I spill in you, it’ll be so very good for you.”

He never could deep throat before — not from lack of trying — but his gullet opened easily now to take Ignis’s perfect, pretty dick as deep into his mouth as he could. He whined with want of it, rolling his hips into the pleasure as he sucked Ignis as he was bid. _Finally_ tasting the man whose scent had tormented him for weeks as he was forced to settle for Gladiolus. 

“Titan’s Belt, Igs,” Gladio panted — stinking of fresh arousal. “That’s so Six-damned hot.”

Ignis hummed in answer. “I might have been inspired by one of your fantasies,” he responded, his voice heavy with repressed moans. His fingers lightly combed through Prompto’s greasy hair. “That’s good, Prompto. Go on. Swallow it down, I’m going to cum soon.”

He whined needily, rocking his hips again. He raised his eyes up to meet Iggy’s pretty, pretty greens — and felt ecstasy explode through his body as the advisor’s jizz filled his throat and down. 

He collapsed on the ground, riding the waves of pleasure. “There we go,” Ignis’s voice soothed, “doesn’t that feel better?”

“M’still Hungry,” he protested, even as he felt Gladio’s muscular perfection hoist him up onto a secure grip. “Need more…”

“I know, Prompto. But not here. We’ll help you, but you must be patient.”

He closed his eyes and drifted off, floating in the pleasure of Iggy’s spend. 


	16. Stable

Prompto whined, writhing desperately in the mattress of the tent. He could _smell_ Iggy and Gladio through the fabric of the tent walls. It didn’t even muffle it at all. They smelled so good, so strong, so virile. He _needed_ them and he was _starving_ and they were **outside**! Ignoring him!

He pulled his arms desperately, trying to strain a counterweight to free the cuffs from the anchor point in the ground. He growled unhappily and flipped onto his side with a huff. They wouldn’t even let him jerk himself!

He kicked his feet out, Hunger twisting violently through his stomach and guts. “Iggy!” He whined. “Come on, _pleaaaaase_? I’ll be good!”

There was the soft click of a stopwatch. “He’s reaches three hours after me between needing a Feed,” Ignis reported, following by the scratch of a pencil across paper. 

“Should we start making him wait longer?” Gladio asked, not making any move to get up out of the camping chair. 

“Nooo!” He wailed, thrashing against the cuffs. “Don’t make me wait, please! I’ll be so good! I’ll suck you while Iggy fucks me, it’ll feel so good for you. Ask Iggy, he knows.”

Ignis sounded vaguely amused: “Well. I suppose that answers that question. We’d best not torment him.” 

Gladio sighed and stood. “Alright. It’s my turn.”

“Nooo,” Prompto said, shaking his head. “Send Iggy in. I want Iggy.”

The tent zipped open and Gladio shouldered his way in, giving Prompto an amused smile. “One of these times you’re going to hurt my feelings,” he grumbled good-naturedly. 

“Iggy feels better than you do,” he said. “You’re like a level 8 orgasm, and he’s like a level 10.”

“I’ve never not been a ten before,” Gladio commented, amused. He slid down his pyjama pants and settled on the mattress. “Wanna ride me?” He offered. 

“Plus Iggy doesn’t make me do all the work,” Prompto huffed. He turned over onto his front and lifted his hips up. 

“He does like to take charge,” Gladio said, his voice amused. His scent burst with a fresh layer of sweetness. 

“Ugh, you two are so _in love_. I mean, dude I love it, but the smell kills my mood. I retract all former offers of a threesome, you guys will suffocate me with your feelings.”

“Should I leave then?” Gladio teased, but he was already shifting into position behind him. 

“Don’t you dare. I’m Hungry.” 

They fell into a familiar rhythm — as much as Prompto complained about doing all the work, when he _could_ coax Gladio to take over it was amazing. All that raw power — his muscles and intensity — all focused on him and their pleasure. Always _theirs_. Iggy really was a lucky, lucky guy — he said it before. 

But he could tell why Gladio was getting lazy. His energy was flagging the closer he got to coming. And Prompto knew why, and he couldn’t stand it. Every hour (for Gladio’s shift) or two (for Iggy’s) — or three now — they were fucking and feeding him. And he was draining them. They were dosing themselves with Elixirs after each session, but they were into the second day even that wasn’t helping. 

“Switch,” Gladio huffed, almost running out of breath. He grabbed Prompto’s hips and _heaved_ , until he was sat on his butt, Prompto straddling him. “Sorry,” he grunted. 

Prompto sighed, rolling his hips and working his inner muscles to try and coax him along. “Don’t apologise, Gladio,” he said quietly. “This is my fault. Even with both of you I’m sucking you dry.”

“More like fucking us dry,” Gladio grunted. His hand came around to pump Prompto’s erection. “We’re hardly complaining, Prompto. Don’t let the guilt get to you.”

He just mewled in pleasure, pressing back into the dick, and forward into his hand. 

But then he tensed up as a new scent teased at his nose. He reached up, muffling Gladio’s grunts and groans with his hand, eyes wide. The low chirp of a chocobo echoed across the Weaverwilds, and soon the crunch of bird feet across the dirt approached the Haven. 

“Dude, why’d you stop?” Gladio growled against his palm. 

“Shut up!” He hissed, pulse racing. 

“Noct!” Ignis greeted, surprised. His step quickened away from the Haven to cut him off. 

Gladio’s muscles tensed underneath him. “Titan’s Belt? Did he just say…?”

Prompto whimpered and nodded. “Noct’s here. Why is he here? I thought Iggy called him!”

“He did…” Gladio withdrew his hand, wrapping it around his hip instead. 

Noct’s footsteps were crunching up the ramp to the Haven, Ignis’s quicker, more frantic ones following close behind. “Noctis I’ve told you, Prompto had relapsed when we found him. Gladiolus and I are helping stabilise him, there’s really no need for you to be here…”

“I don’t care what you said, Specs. If you’ve found Prompto then I need to see him. Need to make sure he’s okay.”

Prompto whimpered, gasping a soft “Oh no” as Noct got close enough that his scent was beginning to overpower the other smells around the campsite. Hunger and desire warred with his determination, and he began to shift out of Gladio’s lap to approach the tent door. 

Gladio’s hands gripped his hips tight and yanked him back, a low cry of pleasure escaping Prompto’s lips. It was Gladio’s hand now, coming up to muffle _his_ noises. 

“What was that?” Noct asked suspiciously, feet coming to a stop. 

“Prompto. As I told you on the phone, he’s in a bad way. Gladio is in there now assisting him.”

Prompto’s hips rolled, sliding along the length of Gladio’s dick, trying to milk him over the edge. Gladio bit down on his own bicep, trying to muffle his groans. “Stop!” he hissed. “Noct will hear!”

Another needy moan tore from Prompto’s throat, and his hips moved faster despite one of Gladio’s hands trying to restrain them. 

“Ignis,” Noct said, his voice low and dangerous. “Explain.”

“Prompto was suffering quite badly through withdrawals when we found him again,” Ignis explained calmly, trying to coax Noct away from the camp. “We’re doing our best to ease him into a stable state—”

Gladio cried out on pleasure as his hips slammed forward, plunging his dick deep inside as he began to spill. 

“That doesn’t sound like easing anyone!” Noct snarled, his voice furious. 

“Oh for Six’s sake—!” Ignis said, frustrated. “Alright! Noctis, Ardyn infected Prompto with a Succubus back in Lestallum. He was starved literally out of his mind when we found him, and Gladio and I are taking turns fucking him to bring him back to a healthy level of control.”

Complete silence followed his explanation. 

Something tore in Prompto’s chest and he collapsed forward onto the tent mattress, shaking. “Ignis!” he sobbed. “You told him! I asked you not to tell him!”

“Gladio,” Noct’s voice was cold and unrelenting as steel. “Get dressed and get out here. The three of us need to talk.”


	17. Bandana

They had their conversation far enough away that Prompto couldn’t overhear them. But when they came back, Ignis and Gladio were unusually quiet. Soon after their arrival, Iggy took the prince aside. 

“Highness… Gladio and I are in desperate need for some restful sleep. If you could supervise Prompto, just for an hour or two? We’ll go to Hammerhead and take a rest in the Caravan.”

“Fine. Go.” Man, Noct sounded _gruuuumpyyyy_. 

“Thank you, Highness. I’ll set an alarm for ninety minutes. But if he stirs before then, I urge you to call us right away.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Noct probably couldn’t fit more pissed off energy into two words if he tried.

“He’ll make noises, before the time comes. But generally we find he is able to restrain himself from begging until the Hunger is overcoming his common sense. There is a particular pitch to his voice when he’s ready — but we won’t expect you to recognise it. Just make sure you call us once the begging begins.”

“Yeah, I _got it_ , Specs,” Noct snapped irritably. “You two look dead on your feet. Just go.”

The two left without fuss. Prompto could hear and smell Noct pacing about. He smelt so very good, Prompto wanted him so bad. He shifted up close to the anchorpoint so he had room to work with his hands. He grabbed his bandana and bunched it up to shove between his teeth, knotting it tight behind his head. 

Then he shifted back down so the cuffs were pulled tight and settled in to wait. 

He didn’t know what Ignis was thinking, leaving him alone with Noct. No… he did know. And he couldn’t begrudge them. He could endure, he’d waited longer than a few hours before. He was barely even hungry now, it was nothing. He’d wait. 

An hour went by way too quickly, listening to the sounds of Kings’s Knight from the campfire. Hunger clawed viciously at his stomach, but he ignored it as best as he could. Ignis and Gladio needed sleep. They needed proper food, and a break from him. If circumstances were different, he might’ve asked Noct to help. Join the rotation or whatever. 

Noct would be so good. He moaned as he thought about it, sinking his teeth into the damp fabric of his bandana. Sure, they’d only fucked the once, and that had ended embarrassingly quickly for both of them — but what else could you expect from two virgins getting their first experience of penetration? But Noct had been with other men now, and he was older. There would be less fumbling — but oh, his dick would feel so _good_ pressing into him. 

He arched his hips back, feeling slick run down his crack at the thought. Noct’s dick was just the right size—not as much of a stretch as Gladio’s, but slightly thicker than Iggy’s. He’d fit just right inside him, maybe spoon up to his back so he could hold him while they could rock together. 

He moaned quietly into the bandana, spreading his thighs wide needily. If he looked appealing enough, begged prettily enough, maybe Noct would come in and take him. 

He tried to sound the letters of his name, but his tongue and teeth got barred by the bandana in his mouth. He gave a little growl of frustration — but no matter how he tried to spit or push it out with his tongue it didn’t budge. He shook his head rapidly. 

He was so empty, so hungry. Open and ready, if only Noct would come in here and see. He keened, trying to be heard by the prince. 

The amazing smell came closer, and he could see Noct’s silhouette on the other side of the fabric wall. “Prom?” His voice was soft. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just tell me when you’re ready for it and I’ll help you.”

His eyes widened and his nostrils flared wide. He hadn’t said he would call Ignis, he said he would help. He strained towards him with a desperate moan, but the cuffs had him caught to a stop before he could properly move. He whimpered and slumped back into the mattress. 

His humanity managed to rise up, just enough to pierce his hunger for a moment. Noct planned on helping him? He made a muffled noise of denial. No, that was what Ardyn wanted. He couldn’t let it happen. He bit down on the bandana even as the Hunger curled through his lower body. He would resist, he was stronger than this. He could last a few hours. 

Awareness came and went in waves. Noct was always there, on the other side of the tent wall, but sometimes all Prompto could focus on was his scent. Hunger consumed him, the need to fuck and feed. To have a man inside him — that man, the one just too far away. He tried to moan and beg and call and entice but the words wouldn’t come out. Tangled in saliva-soaked fabric and turned into unintelligible noises. 

It was almost dark outside when he heard the crows of chocobos — and then Iggy and Gladio’s footsteps. 

“Highness!” Ignis panted, sounding frantic and apologetic. “You must forgive us. We were more exhausted than I calculated, and slept through my alarm.” He paused at the sounds of Prompto’s needy cries. 

“It’s fine, Iggy. You could’ve slept longer,” Noct said, sounding almost annoyed at their return. “I’m taking care of things.”

“...Noct,” Gladio began carefully. “Did you already Feed him?”

“No, not yet,” the prince replied, huffily. “But I will. You two don’t need to be here.”

“Highness, it’s been five hours,” Ignis said, agitated. 

“I know that!” he snapped. “But I’ve been listening, like you said. And as soon as he asks for it, I’ll go in there and take care of him.”

Ignis’s voice was tight, sounded like his jaw was clenched. “Gladiolus, would you settle the birds? I’ll look in on Prompto.”

“You don’t need to do that!” he protested, getting to his feet. 

Ignis just ignored him. Prompto turned desperately towards the tent door as it unzipped. He whined as the advisor came in, and saw the state he was in. 

The waterproof cover on the mattress was pooling with his slick, his wrists rubbed raw in his fight to free himself from the cuffs. He gave a muffled shout through the bandana, arching his entire body towards the advisor. He knew this man, this scent. This man would fuck him, make the Hunger stop. 

“Oh buggering _fuck_ ,” Ignis cursed, and immediately began undoing his belt and trousers. “Prompto you self-sacrificing fool.” 

“Way are you doing?” Noct demanded from outside the tent. 

“What needed to be done four hours ago!” Ignis snapped back. He eased his dick into Prompto’s soaked entrance, pausing for the howl of satisfaction the blond gave. 

“Dude!” Noct growled. 

Ignis didn’t answer, he reached up to undo the bandana and free the sodden fabric from the blond’s mouth. 

His tongue immediately set free, begging and pleading Ignis to fuck him, to fill him. “It hurts so bad,” he whined, curling as close to him as he could with his hands still restrained. “I needed it, and you wouldn’t help me. He wouldn’t help me. Aren’t I good enough, Iggy? Why wouldn’t he come help me?”

“Shhh,” Ignis soothed, stroking his hands through Prompto’s hair. “I’m almost there. It’s alright, Prompto. Then we’ll bring Gladio in and he can feed you too. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Both of us?”

He nodded, whining and hiding his face in Ignis’s shoulder. “Yeah… fuck me. Fill me up with your seed. I’m so empty… it hurts so bad…”

When his head cleared a little, after Ignis had come and filled him and held him through the afterglow, Noct wasn’t outside the tent any more. Eyes stinging with tears he refused to cry, he buried his face in the pillow. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled to Ignis. 

Hands gently stroked through his hair. “It’s okay, Prompto. This was our fault. You don’t need to apologise.”


	18. Routine

“Why did he do that?”

“Highness?”

“Yesterday. When you… left. Why did he do that?”

Prompto stirred awake. It was strange to be back home in Lestallum again—tucked away in their old apartment. He was laying in their bed, but where was Noct? Out in the kitchen talking with Iggy, apparently. _Rude_! It was clearly morning spooning time. 

He shifted sleepily. He was Hungry, but there was nothing urgent about it. He knew a Feed was coming. Instead, he turned his head so he could hear their conversation better. 

“Ah. Well — in all likelihood he was cognisant of our discussion wherein I explained when to know he was ready, and adjusted the situation so you would be unaware of his need.”

Noct inhaled a shaky little breath through his teeth. “But why?” He asked, his voice a rough whisper. A pause. “Because he knew you and Gladio needed proper rest?”

“...perhaps,” Ignis answered. “Though I think it more likely he was attempting to prevent you from seeing him in such a state.”

“I wanted to help him,” he said, his voice rough. “Why won’t he let me…?”

“Noct.” Iggy’s voice was soothing, comforting. 

“Does the thought of it disgust him that much?” He asked, his voice rough and angry. 

“Quite the opposite I’m afraid,” Ignis continued. “He is very drawn to you in his Hunger, Noct. But Ardyn said this was a ‘ _gift_ ’ for you—so Prompto does what he must from preventing Ardyn from getting his vengeance.”

“He said that?” Noct asked. “Why would _this_ be a gift for me?” He demanded. 

Prompto could imagine Ignis was giving the prince a look. One that was all eyebrows and read very clearly: _you know the answer to that and I’m not going to embarrass us all by speaking it out loud_. 

“...right.” Noct sighed. “He should be awake soon. You should get Gladio up, ready him for the first session of the day.”

The first session. Hmph. More like one of only three sessions that were any _fun_.

Noct had decided the routine, and Iggy and Gladio couldn’t argue with it—in the morning, Gladio would fuck Prompto, and Ignis would get a blowjob. This repeated twice more—but by then the slower digestion of oral feeding caught up and for the rest of the day, he only got to blow them. Then a blowjob for each of them before bed—so his Hunger would let them all sleep through the night. It was doing its part, Iggy and Gladio got less exhausted and Prompto didn’t get overly Hungry. But it wasn’t what he _craved_ most of the day. He didn’t know why Noct had decided it had to be that way. Or why the prince had to watch every time. 

It wasn’t about arousal — even if Noct’s scent was permanently delicious, he wasn’t more turned on by seeing them do Prompto. He just seemed angry and sulky the whole time!

Prompto couldn’t figure him out…

The door opened, and he grinned at Gladio—still mostly rumpled by sleep. “Don’t look so grumpy,” Prompto teased, shimmying out of his pyjama pants. “You’re the only person I know that complains about getting morning sex on the reg.”

Gladio only grunted, waiting by the foot of the bed until Iggy and Noct came in. Right. The friendly banter was gone now—it was down to business. Just wham bam thank you ma’am see you in two hours. 

Ignis sat on a chair across the room, by the closed curtains. Prompto crossed over and knelt silently between his knees. But Gladio didn’t even move up behind him until Noct had settled on the edge of the bed to watch them. 

Gladio folded to his knees, pulling down his pyjama pants to expose his cock. Prompto shifted back until he felt the tip against his slick, ready entrance. But he didn’t fuck in yet — Prompto squirmed with impatience. They had to wait, apparently. Ignis unfastened the fly of his trousers and fished out his pretty dick, giving a few pumps until it was hard enough. Then both the men looked at Noct, waiting for whatever the signal was. 

_Finally_ , Gladio pushed in with one solid thrust. Prompto purred in satisfaction—he was apparently too well-fed for all that howling business now. Or the silence was just as oppressive to him as it felt hanging over the other two. 

Gladio’s dick was a hot stretch, eased by the liquid warmth of his slick entrance. It felt solid. Real. Almost punching through his body. The draw back almost pulled his insides back out with it. 

It only took one adjustment until Gladio found the angle that perfectly targeted Prompto’s prostate. He cried out in pleasure at that—hands scrambling on the area rug for purchase. 

That was apparently Ignis’s signal, because he shifted forward slightly in the chair until he could press the tip of his dick into Prompto’s mouth. 

He arched his body with a moan—head and neck stretching forward to take Ignis into his throat, back and thighs reaching back to try and take Gladio deeper. He just wished he was _taller!_ But then Gladio scooted forward on his knees and—bliss. 

He rocked between them, chasing their pleasure, their dicks, their jizz. Back against the thrusting, muscular bulk of Gladio—and forward to take in deeper the shaft of the slender, beautiful Ignis. Their ragged breathing and suffocated groans were the only noises they allowed to escape—and Prompto’s own sluttish moans were muffled and cut off by the bob of Iggy’s dick in and out of his throat. 

He was a happy dude in that place. Even if he wished he could say that they held his full attention. 

But that third scent in the air—the more enticing, more delicious smell—it kept ensnaring his attention. It wasn’t even turned on, not more than any straight dude might be with gay sex happening in front of him. Which was just weird because he knew Noctis was attracted to their bodies. But his scent was soured with unhappiness, and Prompto and his inner daemon both longed to make that bitter overtaste go away. 

The daemon side wanted to entice him over, get him to join the fray, turn the three-way into a straight up orgy. Prompto wasn’t exactly opposed to that thought, but mostly he just wanted to know why his best buddy was unhappy so he could fix it. 

But Gladio came quickly, dick shoving deep inside him and spilling hot and hard. Prompto greedily swallowed the load that came a few moments after. He was too blissed out by their combined spends to do much more than slump on the ground with a grin as they disengaged. He stayed there as they redressed and waited for Noctis’s nod to leave the room. 

The prince waited a moment longer, looking down at Prompto. Then he smelled almost sad, before he stood up to leave the room as well. 

Prompto crawled back to the bed and curled under the sheets to wait for the next Feed. Two hours to go. Maybe Noct could come back and spoon him. He missed his morning cuddle action. 

  


It continued like that for about a week, and then when Iggy and Gladio came to wake him in the morning for his feed, he slapped their hands away. Tucking back closer into Noct’s body, he grumbled at them: “go ‘way! M’not Hungry. Let me sleep.”

Ignis was calm as he addressed Gladio. “It seems Prompto has stabilised,” he sounded pleased—like a doctor delivering a good prognosis to a patient’s family member. 

Oh well. Their morning vigour wasn’t wasted, Prompto heard and smelled them: they just went back into their bedroom and made love. The whole apartment smelled sweet with it. 

Ugh. 


	19. Oblivious

“Look, it’s fine. I get it,” Prompto said irritably. “You never wanted to sleep with me, either of you. But what does Noct’s permission have to do with it? Exactly when did Noctis become gatekeeper of my ass?”

Ignis sighed. “You are so very grouchy when you’re getting Hungry,” he complained. 

“I’m grouchy cause it’s been two weeks and I’m not getting any of that fucking action!” Prompto snapped impatiently. “I need a dick in me! You guys promised it could be yours.”

“And we’re perfectly able to receive oral sex from you,” Ignis answered calmly. “Which you know will do perfectly well to ease your Hunger.”

Prompto threw his hands up in disgust and frustration. “You won’t fuck me then! What am I supposed to _do_ Iggy? Go out and find some random guy to instead?”

Gladio shook his head. “We’ve been instructed to stop you from doing just that.”

He snarled, an animalistic snarl he shouldn’t be capable of. “Then he’s left me with **nothing**! Does he _literally_ want me to go insane?”

Ignis pushed up his glasses, way too calm. It only made Prompto more agitated. “Noctis has stated it is our duty to ensure that the citizens of Lucis do not come to harm, and therefore we cannot allow you to feed from anyone other than us.”

“But you can’t _fuck me_!” he snapped. 

“Let me clarify. It is our duty to ensure you do not feed from anyone but the _three of us,_ ” he stressed. 

Prompto fell silent. “...but I’m only allowed to give you two blow jobs,” he clarified quietly. 

“As his majesty orders,” Ignis replied, still unbearably calm. 

“Why would he do that?” He whined. 

Ignis gave a very heavy sigh. “Gladio, you deal with this. I’ve simply had enough with oblivious idiots for the day.” He wandered off back to the kitchen. 

Gladio just gave Prompto a ‘ _you’re an idiot_ ’ look. “He’s jealous.”

“What do you mean jealous?” Prompto demanded shrilly. “Jealous of what? Of me? He could’ve just asked for a turn on the threesome train!”

“Titan’s chain,” Gladio groaned, resting his head in his hands. “How did you get so far in life being this oblivious, Prompto?” He dropped his hands back down and gave Prompto the most deadpan look. “Of us, Prompto. He was jealous of us. Because we got to fuck you.”

Prompto could only make a completely confused noise and stare at Gladio like he could magically make the words make sense. 

“Six, Prompto. _Really_?” He ran his fingers through his hair agitatedly. “He wants to fuck you. He wants to be the only person who gets to fuck you.”

“What?” He croaked. His brain recoiled violently at the idea of what Gladio was trying to spell out for him. “No, you’re wrong,” he denied, shaking his head. “He’s not… he doesn’t… He loves _Luna_!” he insisted. “They got _ghost married_!”

“Yes, and instead of peacefully moving on with her, he picked an afterlife of a nonstop adventure where he gets to spend every minute of the day with _you_.”

“With _us_ ,” Prompto corrected forcefully. 

Gladio stood up with agitation. “Okay nope, I’m out. If you want someone to hand-hold you all the way out of your denial go talk to someone else! If you want a Feed, I’ll be in the bedroom. If not, go be an idiot somewhere else for Six’s sake.”

Prompto sat on the couch for a long moment, squirming as he struggled against the thoughts wrestling around his head. Then he stood up and silently followed Gladio into the bedroom. 

***

“Galdin Quay,” Ignis announced, parking the Regalia smoothly into their usual space. “We’ve arrived.”

Gladio shoved Noct awake and unfolded himself from the car, stretching. “So, caravan? Just so you know, I’m cool with camping.”

Prompto gave Ignis a shy look. “I actually… I sold some of the junk that’s been collecting in our armiger inventory. Did you know we had ninety-nine Voretooth Bristles? That’s just excessive.”

“Your point,” Iggy encouraged, quirking an eyebrow. 

“I, uh, I booked us a couple rooms at the resort,” he said. “For the weekend. They’re already paid for.”

“A couple of rooms,” Gladio echoed, watching him suspiciously. 

He shrugged and rubbed an arm. “Look, I know my...condition hasn’t been easy for any of you. Especially you and Iggy and your relationship. I figured we could all use a getaway — why don’t you consider it your second honeymoon to the wedding you still won’t tell me if you ever had.”

Ignis looked between him and Noct, then hummed. “Well, thank you Prompto. However unnecessary, it is appreciated. Shall we go check in, my love?” He took Gladio’s arm and forcibly walked him off. 

Prompto turned to Noct, giving him an awkward attempt at a smile. “Guess you’re stuck with me then, buddy.”

Noct nudged him with his elbow, but it was a very tentative movement. They still weren’t close like before, hadn’t repaired the bridge between them that his possession had set on fire. 

“Come on then. We’ll dump our bags and get some lunch before I go fishing.” 

Prompto just groaned as if that was a punishment and followed after him towards the resort. 

It had been a day since he’d last fed—a Gladio blowjob that left his jaw uncomfortably aching. But he’d calculated and timed it perfectly — he should just be getting hungry right before he and Noct were going to bed for the night. 

He hoped Gladio was right about his feelings. Otherwise this vacation was going to end very, _very_ badly. 


	20. Exfoliate

In the dark, hidden by the docks of the resort, Prompto shimmied out of his underwear so he was naked and slipped into the water. 

He felt the warm salt water embracing him, pressing against every inch of his skin, soaking into his hair. 

He hadn’t felt clean in a long time. From the inside, his body was infected, monstrous. Tainted with a daemon that consumed everything he was. From the outside, it was a body that hundreds of men had touched and rubbed and fucked and come on. 

He wanted to feel clean again. The salt water helped. 

It was the best natural disinfectant. Burned like a bitch in a cut but was burning away impurities. Ancient rituals always seemed to begin with purifying something in sea salt. 

He kicked his feet a little, rising above the water to inhale a fresh breath. The air smelled of seafood and spices (he could almost image it would taste that way too. He missed being able to taste). Just faintly there were other smells — enticing masculine smells that called out to the growing Hunger. But he ignored them. 

He floated a bit — once upon a time with his weight and the ensuing stick-thin figure he’d never had a choice to do anything but float. But muscle was denser than water, and the weight of his arms threatened to pull him down. 

After enjoying the gentle cradle of the ocean for a few minutes, rocked just slightly back and forth with the inconsequential waves of the bay, he took a deep breath. 

Kicking down to the very bottom, he scooped up handfuls of sand. Between breaths, he stayed down there to scrub at his skin with the sand. Sloughing away the first layer of skin until he felt soft and new again. 

Something clean for his king to touch.

He paddled back to the edge of the deck and pulled himself up, wrapping a towel around his hips so he didn’t flash anyone glancing in his direction. 

Hunger pulling at his belly, he walked through the open doors of their suite — eyes immediately following his nose to where Noctis stood by the door, tugging his shoes on. 

The whole suite smelled of him. It had slick dampening his entrance, dick twitching with interest under the towel. 

“Hey,” Noct greeted quietly. “I was gonna go grab something to eat. Check in with Specs and Gladio before we turned in for the night. You want me to pass on anything?” 

Prompto shook his head. He padded quietly to the bathroom — a quick shower to wash off the salt water before it dried out his skin. He paused in the doorway before stepping in — Noct had one hand on the doorknob. 

“Hey, Noct?” He called. 

“Yeah?” Noct asked, turning to look at him. “When you get back…” He trailed off. Why did he feel so shy? He’d never felt this shy before. Not with any of the others. He bit his lip and lowered his eyes. “I’m Hungry,” he whispered — but loud enough that Noctis could hear. 

Without wanting to wait for his reaction or his answer, Prompto slipped into the bathroom and closed the door again. A moment later, the door to their suite opened and closed again with the sounds of Noctis leaving. 

He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. 

He stood under the warm water of the shower, letting it wash away the salt water and any lingering sand from his scrub. He could feel it calling blood to his skin, making him flush and sensitive. 

Daring, he let his hands wander to explore himself. Pinching his nipples until they peaked under the warm water — tickling the strip of skin below his belly button near his waistband that sent little sparks of pleasure right down to the core of his body. Rolling his heavy balls between one hand and the heat of his body — stroking the soft, wrinkled skin that encased them until they felt damp from how much he was leaking with anticipation. He smoothed one finger back across his perineum, shivering with a low moan as he felt his prostate from the outside. Across his entrance, furled but not tightly enough to give any resistance as he pushed the tip of his finger in. 

He stopped there, removing his finger from himself and shifting to give his dick a soothing pump. He wanted Noct to feel him tight still — not loose and sloppy like he’d already been used. 

Forcing himself out of the shower, he dried off and — instead of bothering to get dressed, he padded naked to the bed and pulled back the sheets. He lay down a towel, he didn’t want to soak the bed, and then rested on his back. He arranged the top sheet across his belly — it was thin enough to immediately settled, clinging, to the contours of his abs and tented across his crotch. But it hid the pale white lines of stretch marks across his belly and hips. He wanted to look sexy, seductive. Using the remote, he turned off the lights so only the soft yellows of the lights bouncing off the ocean lit up the room. 

And then he waited. 

Noctis might not even come at all. He might take Prompto’s words as a warning, send Iggy or Gladio instead. The whole set up for one of the others would be embarrassing, but he’d get the message: they were wrong, and Noct wanted nothing to do with him like this. 

He took a shaky breath as he heard the key in the door, turning to look as it slowly opened. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then cliffhanger.


	21. Revelation

The smell hit him first, physical enough it made his hips pulse up with need. It was everything Noct was: raw, powerful, masculine; and something that was uniquely him — fishy (but not in an off-putting way), a gentle sleepy smell. But right then it was rich with _arousal_. 

He bit his lip, watching the door with desperation as Noctis stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, thumbing the lock. He leaned back against the door, watching Prompto with a blank face. If he didn’t know — couldn’t _smell_ that Noct wanted this, he’d think the Prince wasn’t interested in this, in him. 

“Noct?” He asked, “everything okay?”

“You’re Hungry.”

“Yeah,” he said.

“And you told me.”

“Yeah?” Prompto swallowed. “Am I not allowed to?”

“Depends.” Noctis folded his arms across his chest. “Why’d you tell _me_?”

He frowned. He shifted slightly. “Iggy told me that only you three can help me out.”

“Is this about not wanting to disturb Specs and Gladio’s weekend?” Noctis demanded, his voice cold. 

His mood was ruined. He tugged the sheets up over his shoulders and turned onto his side, away from Noct. “If it was about that, I would’ve just sucked Iggy off this morning so it wouldn’t have been a problem.” He tugged the sheets up again, hiding his neck too. “Forget it. I thought…” He closed his eyes. “It doesn’t matter what I thought.” He was wrong. Gladio was wrong. Noctis didn’t want him. 

“It does,” Noct said insistently. “It matters a lot. So tell me.”

He sighed. He should’ve stayed in the ocean. Let the fish devour his corpse. “They said you’d forbidden them from fucking me,” he started. And then he couldn’t figure out how to go onwards without embarrassing himself even further. 

“So you just want to get fucked?” Noctis asked, his voice low and accusing. 

“No,” he mumbled, and pulled the blankets over his head. “Would’ve just asked you in Lestallum if that was it. What kinda guy would I be if I arranged us a holiday away just because I was expecting your dick? Gladio told us enough times about expectations, and not giving your partner the wrong message.” Take your own advice next time, Gladio. 

“Pick up a guy quick and dirty in a bar if you’re gonna do him quick and dirty,” Noct said, in a mocking attempt at Gladio’s voice, “don’t take him out to a fancy restaurant if you just wanna get your dick wet.”

“Yeah. That.” He winced, now that his expression was safely hidden from Noctis. 

“Then what was all this then?” Noct pressed, his voice firm with determination. 

He shuddered. “I told them I didn’t get why you had forbidden them. Why you cared. Gladio said… Gladio said you wanted to be the only one to fuck me.”

“So?” Noct asked, his voice flat, emotionless. 

He curled up tighter. “So I thought… maybe that meant you felt the same way I do.” The only reaction to that was a shaky inhale. He cringed. “Forget it. It was stupid. I know. Just… just go away for a few minutes and I’ll clean up and get dressed. We can forget this ever happened.”

“I can’t forget,” Noctis said, his voice shaky. 

He sighed. “I know.” He’d known it was gonna turn out great or absolutely ruin their friendship forever. Guess he shouldn’t have gambled. “Stupid Gladio,” he muttered. 

“No, I mean… I don’t want to forget.” Noct corrected. 

Prompto stiffened in shock. He didn’t know how to take that. He couldn’t let himself gamble on his feelings again, there was too much at stake. 

He listened to Noctis approach the bed, circling around it, and winced when the sheet was yanked off — leaving him exposed down to the ankles. 

His king reached out, stroking one thumb across his bottom lip. “If this was just about Hunger, then I was going to fuck your mouth,” he said, his voice dark with a lust whose smell clouded Prompto’s mind.“I’d never make you go Hungry, and I’d rather you come to me than anyone else.” He gripped Prompto’s chin, lifting his face so they could look at each other. “But if I was right, if I was reading this romantic getaway right… I was going to make love to you.”

Prompto gave a shaky moan, feeling a trickle of slick seep out of him. “Noct…” he panted. 

“So I need you to tell me, Prompto,” he replied, meeting the blond’s gaze. “Which one it is.”

“I want you, Noct,” he whimpered, “I’ve always wanted you.”

“Same.” Keeping Prompto’s face upturned, he leaned down and pressed their lips together. 

It was like an explosion in his chest. Fireworks, or a bullet striking him right through the heart and leaving him forever changed. 

They didn’t kiss. They humped and jerked each other off and Prompto had given him one memorable blowjob and one weekend in late October years and years ago they’d fucked. But they didn’t kiss. Kissing was different, every whore knew that. 

Prompto hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone, even all this long journey of monstrous Hunger. Hundreds of men, and months with Gladio and Ignis and all his mouth had been used for was sucking them off. 

But Noctis was kissing him and it felt like a revelation. It felt like the sun rising at the end of ten long years of darkness, blood in his eyelashes as he blinked through the pain to see it one last time. 

Noctis pulled away and licked his lips. “Damn, Prompto. You taste so good.”

He winced at that comment. “Amazing as that was — and I mean like, earth shatteringly, dawn of a new world good — we probably shouldn’t. My fluids… do stuff to people.”

Noct shut him up with another kiss, tongue dipping in to taste him again. He pulled away, looking at him with dark, but clear eyes. “I don’t care, Prompto. Nothing is going to stop me from kissing you ever again.”

With a soft whimper, and a strange new warmth building — not in his guts now, but his chest — he pulled Noctis down to him and surrendered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And still no sex yet

**Author's Note:**

> My ADHD had gotta chill with the new plot man, I'm meant to be working on A to O!


End file.
